Alone in the sanctuary, Steve turned and studied the altar. This was an old building, dating from the beginning of the twentieth century. Polished wooden pews and high stained glass windows led to a kneeling rail before the raised altar. Suddenly obeying an inner compulsion, Steve made his way up the aisle and dropped to his knees at the rail. Slowly he raised his eyes to the golden cross, hanging stark and victorious above the altar.
How strange it all seemed, Steve thought, yet how wonderful. The more he studied the Bible, the more he learned of how God took evil and created hope. A boy could be sold by his brothers into slavery in Egypt, yet become almost as great as pharaoh, and save his family in the process. And the symbol of the worst possible death could become the symbol of the best possible way to live.
Once again, Steve felt a wave of awe and adoration wash over his soul, and wondered how he had remained so blind to the truth all of these years. He closed his eyes, feeling the peaceful assurance of God’s presence all around him. He didn’t know how long he remained bowed in silent worship, but eventually he opened his eyes and smiled up at the empty cross one more time. Then painfully, because his leg had stiffened from kneeling, he pulled himself to his feet. He realized that this was the first time since before the accident that he had managed to get into a kneeling position. There, Doctor Harris, he thought with a smile. I finally delivered that ‘thank you’ note we talked about. As he turned to leave the sanctuary, he saw Reverend Graham sitting quietly in the last pew.
Steve blushed, a little embarrassed. “How long have you been there?” He asked.
“Not long, Steve,” the old man replied, a strange husky note in his voice. He cleared his throat. “Please forgive the intrusion, but it’s a joy to see the answer to several years of prayers. A pastor needs that once and awhile.”
Steve waited by the altar as Reverend Graham got to his feet and walked down the center aisle to join him. Together they headed back to the Sunday school room, where Steve found that Beth and the Morgan’s had arrived and were already fixing plates of food.
Beth grinned at him unapologetically. “You snooze you lose,” she teased, adding a drumstick to her plate.
Steve didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed a paper plate and began filling it with the evening’s pot luck. Besides his bucket of chicken, the table now sported a huge tossed salad, macaroni and cheese, and a plate of double fudge brownies for dessert. And despite Beth’s threat, there was more than enough for everyone.
Steve was working on seconds as Reverend Graham opened his Bible to Ephesians 6:10, “Proper Christian Attire for Defeating the Devil”. Steve doodled a little stick man in the corner of his notebook, adding a helmet, sword, breastplate and sandals as the lesson progressed. By the time Reverend Graham reached the end of the list, Steve’s line drawing had taken on an unexpected aspect of fierceness. Steve was impressed. The little guy really might have the power to stand in the evil days. Stick men in to warriors; fishermen into disciples. This was a God who truly delighted in creating something from nothing. Once again Steve felt an overwhelming sense of awe at the world the Lord had chosen to create. What a blessing it was to finally become a part of it all!
Reverend Graham closed the lesson with a prayer. Since the marines had not attended tonight, and the Morgan’s had to hurry home to pay their anxious babysitter, Beth and Steve volunteered to stay and clean up the dishes.
Beth returned from the kitchen with a soapy dish rag. As she wiped down the tables she eyed Steve speculatively. Steve fidgeted as he grew uncomfortably aware that she was watching him, and began to consider leaving abruptly, before she got up the courage to say whatever was on her mind. Steve thought he knew what it might be, and he was pretty sure he didn’t want to hear it. He glanced at his watch, about to offer some inane excuse for why he suddenly needed to leave, when Beth finally broke the silence.
“So,” she said. “Have you ever been diving at the wrecks?”
Steve shook his head. “No, the only diving I ever did was when I wiped out on my surf board,” he replied flippantly, reaching for his coat.
Beth rolled her eyes and tossed her shoulder length blonde hair. “So you’re pretty good at it then,” she answered matter of factly.
“Steve blinked, losing the thread of the conversation. “At what?”
“Diving. From your surfboard.”
Steve raised an eyebrow in mock disdain. “Cruel” He acknowledged, and drew himself up to his full height. “However, since you have never been surfing with me, I will ignore that uneducated remark.” He shook his finger at Beth, admonishing her in a mock serious tone of voice. “You have no idea to whom you are speaking. I was pretty competitive in my youth, and my mother has my medals suitably displayed in a lovely shadow box to prove it.” Steve shrugged into his coat and picked up the trash bag to carry outside, thinking the conversation was over.
“You should try it, you know,” Beth persisted.
“Scuba diving?” He asked uncertainly.
“Yes!” Beth replied, her voice growing more animated. “It wouldn’t take you long to get certified, and there’s so many great wrecks off the coast to explore!”
“That’s why they call it ‘Cape Fear’, you know,” he quipped, still refusing to take her seriously.
Beth sighed and looked a little hurt. “You are just full of it tonight, aren’t you?” She picked up the plate that had held the brownies, tucked the dirty dish into a plastic grocery bag, and slipped her purse over her shoulder. “Got your key?” She asked coolly as she walked toward the door.
Steve felt a twinge of guilt. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings. He hurried to catch up with her by the door. “Hey, I’m sorry, Beth. I didn’t think you were being serious. What made you think of scuba diving?”
She paused and turned back to him. “Your leg, for one thing. It would be great exercise for you in a zero gravity environment, plus its fun, and…” she paused, the added quietly. “I thought it might be fun to dive with you this summer.”
“Oh.” Steve was silent for a moment, taken aback by her sincerity. He’d never given scuba diving more than a passing thought. He supposed it could be something different, and a whole lot more interesting than swimming laps in the pool. After a moment he shrugged. “Okay, I’d be willing to try it, I guess, but I don’t have any gear,” he warned her.
“Not a problem,” she replied smoothly. “You can borrow some of mine until you decide if it’s something you would want to do.”
“Soooo, who do you suggest I contact to find out about classes and times?” Steve asked.
Beth smiled. “Me.” She said simply.
Steve frowned. “I thought you were some sort of a nurse somewhere.”
Beth laughed. “I am a nurse, silly.”
Steve blinked. Sometimes she made him feel incredibly stupid. “So you’re a nurse and a diving instructor?”
Beth rolled her eyes again in exasperation. “I also like horseback riding, hiking, and knitting, and I have even delivered a baby or two when the doctor couldn’t get there in time; which is okay, since I am also a registered midwife.”
Steve whistled, impressed despite himself. “Busy girl,” he acknowledged.
“That’s me!” She agreed with a grin. “I never was very good at just sitting around watching soap operas. I like to try new things, which...” she grew serious again. “Brings me back to the point of all this. Do you really think you would like to get your certification? Go diving with me this summer?”
Steve thought for a moment, and then nodded. “Yeah, I think I’d like to see what its like. It sounds like something I should have tried a long time ago. When do we start?”
Beth smile, pleased with his positive response. “Good! We’ll start Saturday morning around eight - if you can get up that early?” She asked, raising a doubtful eyebrow.
Steve gritted his teeth at the barb, but smiled, deliberately ignoring her taunt. Not long after beginning the class he had admitted to enj
oying sleeping in until nine o’clock most mornings, while Beth had smugly asserted that she liked getting up at five o’clock and going for a run.
“No problem! But where am I going?”
Beth held out a business card with her name and address. “My house,” she said with a toss of her blonde locks. “Don’t be late!” She admonished him one more time, and then headed out the door. Steve waited a couple of minutes before walking out to his car. He really wasn’t sure about Beth. She was funny and interesting and definitely pretty, but she could really irritate him sometimes! Now that she had put the idea into his head, though, the prospect of diving and exploring the many sunken ships off the coast was exciting! Three days seemed a long time to wait to begin.
Ch 17
Lazy Days of Spring
Steve kicked his fins lazily, using his hands to propel himself around a huge algae covered metal beam and out through the gaping wound in the ship’s hull. It had been eerie swimming up the long ghostly ladders between the decks and then down the pitch black corridors, so distinctly human, yet now a home for a variety of fish and seaweed.
The water surrounding the doomed freighter was clear and the sunlight from above brightened the area around the wreck, making his head lamp unnecessary. Steve switched it off and began exploring the sea floor outside the hull. A couple of sharks cruised nearby; harmless mostly, but always a presence to be monitored. Steve circled farther out from the remains of the wreck and pulled out his new and very expensive underwater camera to take a picture. His fins stirred up the sandy bottom and beneath the swirl, a glimmer caught his eye. He reached down and brushed away more sand. Steve grinned, at least as much as his breathing apparatus would allow him to, and lifted up a very dainty china teapot with only a hairline crack along the base. He gently dropped it into his booty bag and turned to look for Beth. She was waving at him from a rocky outcropping that had most likely been the one that had killed the ship seventy-five years ago. Beth tapped her wrist, letting him know that it was time to head up. Too soon, as far as Steve was concerned, but he gave her a thumbs up sign, and together they kicked toward the surface.
George, her young partner in the scuba diving venture, was dozing on the bow of the little cabin cruiser that served as their diving platform. Beth hailed him as they swam toward the boat. He immediately sat up and waved, then made his way aft to give them each a hand up the ladder. As they removed their gear and stowed the tanks on the rack, George set out drinks and sandwiches for them to enjoy during the hour long cruise back home.
Steve observed the young man as he went about his chores. In many ways, George reminded him of a younger version of Chuck. In fact, he could easily imagine Chuck as a beach bum in his youth, and for a moment, Steve wondered where Chuck had grown up. George had the same curly bleached out blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes shining out of a handsomely bronzed face. He had an easy accommodating manner that made him very likeable, but it was also clear to Steve that George knew what he was doing, and the accommodating manner would harden quickly if you messed with anything to do with ‘his’ boat. George was blessed to have found a job that combined his two passions in life: working on boat engines and maintaining his already impressive tan.
As George cranked the engine to life and turned the wheel of the cabin cruiser back toward home, Steve and Beth munched on the sandwiches and compared finds. He examined two medicine bottles Beth had uncovered, and she exclaimed over the delicate teapot, agreeing that his mother would certainly appreciate his discovery.
This was only Steve’s third dive in the ocean, but he knew he was hooked. A thought that made him a little sad, since he would probably be leaving for Hanging Rock in just a few weeks. He felt stronger every day, and expected the doctors would release him by late June. It didn’t matter, though. Steve had already purchased his own wet suit and oxygen tanks, and now the camera. He would stash them at his mother’s house and use them whenever he could get free from Hanging Rock for a couple of days. For the first time in six years, Steve was not looking forward to leaving Jacksonville.
He looked over at Beth, who was now stretched out on the cushions, reading a novel. She glanced up at him and flashed a smile. “You want to try and go out again later this week?” She called loudly, over the growl of the engine.
“Sure!” Steve answered eagerly. “I’m off Tuesday, what about you?”
Beth shook her head. “I think I’m scheduled to work. I’ll call you and let you know.”
Steve sighed to himself. If Beth was working then he was on his own Tuesday. He was not certified to go diving on his own, nor did he have access to a boat. The prospect was gloomy. Tuesday would be a wasted day.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tuesday morning dawned bright and sunny, although Steve was not aware of it until around 8:30. He awoke to the unmistakable scent of freshly baked cinnamon buns rising from the kitchen.
Blearily, Steve threw on some shorts, splashed his face with cold water, and stumbled down the stairs, just in time to kiss his mother good-bye at the door, as she headed off for her volunteer shift at the hospital.
“Smells great, mom, thanks,” he said, inhaling appreciatively. There were certainly benefits to living back at home again, he thought. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had homemade cinnamon buns.
His mother smiled. “The coffee’s on. Let the buns sit a few minutes to cool before you drizzle them with frosting,” she admonished. “I hope you weren’t planning to go out this morning.”
Steve was puzzled. “Why?” He asked.
“Oh, well, it would have been a shame to have the buns go to waste,” she replied vaguely. “I remember how much you used to like them and I just got the urge to get up and make them today.”
She seemed slightly evasive, but Steve let it pass. “Don’t worry about those cinnamon buns, mom,” he replied, giving her a peck on the cheek. “I have plans for each and every one of them!”
His mother reached for her purse and sunglasses on the table. She gave him a warm smile. “I’m glad I got the notion then,” she answered. “So you are staying home today, then?”
Steve shrugged. “Beth hasn’t called yet, but we might go diving later today. I don’t know yet.”
Laura Williams frowned a little. “Oh.”
Steve raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Why this sudden interest in where I’m going to be today?”
Laura gave him an innocent smile. “I just remembered that Tassie said she would drop off some knitting patterns this morning, and I forgot to tell her that today was one of my volunteer days, that’s all. Would you be a dear, and hang around until she drops by? I’m sure it would be no later than ten.”
Steve smiled. “Sure mom, no problem.”
Laura smiled again and sighed happily. “It’s good to have you home again!” She exclaimed. “Since your dad passed on, I’ve missed having someone I could depend upon for little things.
I know what you mean, mom,” he agreed. “I’ve enjoyed being home with you, too.”
Laura finally glanced at her watch. “Lordy, just look at the time! I’ve got to fly!” She gave her son one more kiss on the cheek and hurried out the door.
Steve sighed. It had been nice being home, but living with your mother once you’d been out on your own had its good points and bad points, he reflected. It was probably a good thing that she didn’t get these domestic urges too often. Most of the time she was quite willing to let him live his own life, now that he was more mobile, and she had returned to her community charities and volunteer work. They were usually quite comfortable with each other, although she didn’t quite know what to think about his sudden interest in religion. Despite his frequent requests for her to attend church with him, she steadfastly refused, saying she had never felt the need to dabble in ‘all of that’. Steve wasn’t ready to give up, though. Sooner or later, she would realize that it wasn’t some passing fad for Steve, and then her curiosity would get the better of her. Str
etching, Steve followed his nose back to the kitchen and eyed the two huge trays of cinnamon buns with some surprise. Did she think she was feeding an army? He’d weigh 300 pounds if he ate all of these! Still, it was nice to be spoiled sometimes…
He poured a cup of coffee and scooped up a steaming roll, tossing it from hand to hand to keep from burning his fingers. He took a nibble of the corner and closed his eyes in bliss. It was every bit as good as he recalled. Steve saw that his mother had left the newspaper by his chair, so he settled down to read, and to do as much damage as he could to all those cinnamon buns.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Steve was on his third bun and second cup of coffee when he heard a blaring car horn accompanied by loud beach music and hoops of laughter approaching from the far end of the block. College kids home for spring break? He speculated, pausing with the coffee cup halfway to his lips. He set the cup down abruptly, though, when he realized that it was his name being screamed out as the vehicle drew closer to the house. At a loss, Steve lifted a white lace curtain in the front sitting room and peered out of the window. A gray SUV roared down the street and took the turn into his driveway on two wheels. As he watched, Steve’s puzzled expression quickly gave way to a joyful grin.
Pete was at the wheel, but Chuck hung over the back seat, blowing the horn like a madman, while Deborah hung out the window, waving and screaming his name at the top of her lungs! Steve opened the door and stood on the front porch, just staring at the little SUV in disbelief. As he watched, Pete staggered out of the driver’s seat, squinting in pain and shaking his head. “A person could go deaf in there!” He called to Steve in mock irritation, hooking his thumb at the vehicle. Then he grinned and hurried forward to shake Steve’s hand and to embrace him in a huge bear hug. Before Pete could release him, Deborah and Chuck were also out of the car and joined the pair on the porch, Deb calling “Group hug, everybody!”
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