“What Wesley said to me in there just now, that was odd.” Karen looked toward the windows of his apartment.
“He’s in his own little world.” Madison stared out over the white treetops. “I fear for him. And I worry for my mom and my dad and me—and other people he knows.”
“Are you saying you’re afraid he may hurt you or others?”
“I think of the Columbine shooters…”
“Madison, you would tell me if you knew of any evidence—”
“I’m not saying he’s going to do anything like that. It’s the drugs. He’s messed up. Okay? He has a heart in there somewhere. When we were growing up, he watched over David and me like a hawk. He was the best big brother.”
“It must be so hard for you.”
“They say when a child dies, like David did, families have a hard time staying together. Marriages break up…”
“What about you?” Karen asked. “How are you keeping it all together?”
“Some days I don’t.”
They walked slowly along the back of the house. Karen waited, praying Madison would open up.
“Some days I wanna be the rebel; I wanna be the selfish one!” She kicked the snow. “Some days I don’t want all the pressure on me to be the only sane one around here.”
“You’ve had to grow up fast.” Karen regretted that Madison’s family had forced her into this unspoken role as overseer. She seemed so much older than seventeen.
“Yeah. My friends can’t relate.” Madison shook her head. “They don’t know what goes on at my house.”
Karen stopped walking. “I had a similar type of loneliness growing up. My dad was a pastor, and all he cared about was having a big church and a bunch of programs. He didn’t even have a relationship with God.”
Madison tilted her head and seemed to wait for more.
“But the difference between you and me is, I committed some awful sins to escape from my troubles—or to get back at my dad.”
“What did you do?”
“Got pregnant.” Karen looked at her. “Then my dad drove me to get an abortion to protect his name.”
Madison actually gasped. “Oh my gosh, Aunt Karen. I’m sorry.”
Karen smiled slightly and put an arm around her niece as they looked out over the valley. “It’s okay. God worked it all out for good. My dad is the godliest man I know—now. And when he changed, I did too.”
“I wish my dad would change. I know that sounds awful—”
“No it doesn’t, Madi. It sounds honest.”
Karen bent down, picked up some snow, and patted it into a snowball, praying for words that would comfort. “You’ve had it hard. But you know, there’s a Father in heaven who wants to be your Daddy. He wants to watch over you and have a friendship with you.”
She launched the snowball into the woods below, grunting then laughing. Madison chuckled, too.
“That’s the only way I get by in this world.” Karen clapped her hands together. “Knowing I’m loved. Knowing the God who created everything is my Father—and He’ll always be there for me. You know what I mean?”
Madison swiped some snow off Karen’s coat. “Thanks. Somehow it helps, shows me there’s hope.”
“There is, Madi. Even when things look darkest, there’s hope in God.”
Listen to you. You need to take your own advice! Oddly, through this new friendship, Karen was finding solace, because she was being forced to revisit her Christian roots, to remind herself of God’s goodness—in all things.
“You’ve fought such a good fight so far,” Karen said. “I’m proud of you, how you’ve stayed so strong. And I want you to know I’m here for you any time you need me.”
Madison gave Karen a hug. “Thank you. I may just call and cry on your shoulder sometime.”
“I’ll be here.”
Madison pointed out to the hills. “I’ve tried to paint that scene a thousand times, but I can’t quite get it the way I want it.”
“Oh, I bet you did beautifully. I’d love to see it.” Karen inspected the deck and windows of Wesley’s apartment once more. “What do you say we head back up to the front of the house so I can keep an eye out for Everett?”
When they got to the top of the property, Karen scanned the large, empty driveway. “Where’d Wesley park?”
“Good question,” Madison said. “He comes and goes in a zillion different cars.”
“But the white Yukon is his?”
“It’s a family car, but he uses it all the time. He had a car of his own once, but he wrecked it.”
Karen eyed the long, four-car garage, whose doors were closed. “Would it be in there?”
“I don’t know where else it would be. You want me to look?”
Karen glanced back at the still house. “No. That’s okay. Let’s talk some more.” They sat on a cold bench by a concrete birdbath whose water was frozen. “What are you going to do this evening? It’s Saturday night.”
“That doesn’t mean much for me.” Madison chuckled. “I may meet up with some friends, but they usually end up at parties, and I’m not much of a party person.”
“No?”
“Huh-uh. I don’t like crowds.”
“What do you do on Sundays?”
“Nothin’ special. I paint a lot, or sketch. Sometimes I drive way out into the country and take pictures. Then I paint from those.”
“That’s cool. I’d love to go with you sometime. I’m not a city girl. I’m used to farm country. ‘Keep Manhattan, just gimme that countryside.’” Karen laughed. “You’re way too young to be familiar with Green Acres.”
“I’ve seen the reruns on TVLand.” Madison smiled. “Do you miss Kansas?”
“I do.” Karen’s mind made the fourteen-hundred-mile trip in a split second. “My mom and dad still live there. I miss them a lot. And I had a great church there.”
“Why did you move here then?”
“We still have my house in Kansas, but Ev wanted to live here, too.” She peered into Madison’s eyes. “He wanted to be closer to your family. He really wants your dad—all of you—to know God. And when Everett gets his mind set on something—”
“He doesn’t give up.”
Karen gave a big nod.
“Well, he’s fighting a losing battle with this family. We’ve never gone to church or anything like that.”
Karen heard the squeal of tires, and within seconds, Everett wheeled into the driveway. “Hi sweetie,” she yelled. Then she hurried over to him and spoke before Madison got there. “Everything’s okay. Don’t say anything in front of Madi. Let’s just go.”
Everett searched the grounds, his distinct jaw jutting out beneath clenched teeth. “Where is the little—?”
“Stop,” Karen insisted. “We’re leaving.”
Madison strolled up. “Hey, Uncle Everett.”
“Hey, Madison.” Broad shoulders back and slightly out of breath, Everett continued to peruse the property.
Karen turned to say good-bye to Madison, ready to invite her to church tomorrow, when she put her hands in her coat pockets and grinned.
“What’s so funny, Aunt Karen?”
“Nothing.” She pulled out the small black Bible. “I just want you to have this.”
Madison took the book with both hands. “You always carry Bibles in your coat?”
Karen laughed, then took a deep breath and sighed. “I was very sad this morning. Scared and angry. I’ll tell you about it sometime. Anyway, I was far from the house, and I took this little Bible with me. I read from it, and God came just like He always does. He reached down and comforted me… I want you to have it.”
Madison stroked the leather cover. She looked up and blinked slowly. “That is so kind. Thank you. I can’t promise I’ll read it, though.”
“No promises required.”
15
WHEN THE HONDA WAS several blocks away from Eddie’s neighborhood, Everett parked it on the side of the rode and squeezed Karen in his a
rms. They kissed and held each other in silence as the winter night settled in around them.
“I need to know,” Everett finally spoke, “did he pull a gun on you?” He was determined to be calm for her, but his insides were revving in overdrive.
“I never actually saw a gun,” came her muffled voice from his chest. “I heard something behind me. Metal clicking…”
“You didn’t turn around?”
“I was headed up the stairs from the basement. Wesley was starting to freak out. Then Sheila showed up.”
“Did you look back then?”
“Yeah. He was on his knees, closing up a duffel bag.”
“I’m goin’ back, babe. Not with you, but I’ve got to deal with this.”
“Ev, I’m not positive it was a gun. Besides, you don’t mess with people who are drugged out of their minds! If Wesley has a gun, he could kill you.”
With Karen’s head buried against his shoulder and her long velvety hair cool on his cheek, Everett stared out at some horses in the fenced field beyond the fogging window. She was right. He dumped his wrath in God’s lap, and the wise thing now would be to chill.
He admired the serenity of the horses that, wearing heavy turnout blankets, wandered in a snowy pasture beneath a light shining from the peak of a barn. So carefree.
Karen explained what she’d seen in the basement and described the confrontation with Wesley in more detail. Even though he was infuriated, Everett listened intently, stroking her hair and rubbing her neck as she spoke.
“What about the white Yukon?” he finally said.
“I saw him pull up in it. There was mud all over the tires and fenders.”
“Was anybody with him?”
“No, but Madison said he was with another kid last night, a bad dude. She heard them leave the house at 11:15 or 11:30.”
“So they could have done it.”
“Timewise, yeah.”
“What do you think?”
She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “I don’t know. It’s possible. Ev, he’s so messed up.”
“If he’s doin’ meth, that stuff’s poison.”
“Did you ever do it?”
“No. I was hyper enough. Some of our roadies did, to stay awake in the middle of the night when they had to set up the stage. They were wild things.”
“Wesley looks terrible.” She shook her head, remembering. “He’s dirty. I mean, B.O. And he was scratching at himself like crazy.”
“Crank bugs. That stuff dries out your skin. Makes you itch all over. You rub till you’re raw.”
“Wesley’s skin was raw under his eye! And in David’s journal, he wrote that he had scabs everywhere.”
“I remember that from the hospital when he died,” Everett said. “What else did he say in the journal?”
“I’m sorry, Ev.” She hugged him and tried not to cry as she spoke. “David loved you so much. But he was a disturbed young man. You’ve got to know that—”
“He said I let him down, didn’t he?”
Her grip got tighter. “He did, but he still loved you—so much. Right till the end.”
He went limp in her arms. “Was the accident some kind of sick suicide?”
“I don’t know. He believed Endora’s lie about the Other Side.”
“I spread that lie!” His eyes filled with tears, making the light on the barn in the distance look like a giant snowflake.
“God knows, honey.” She rubbed his back, up and down. “God’s working in all this.”
“David wasn’t a believer. He’s in hell! That’s reality. Oh, Lord Jesus, why?” He shook his head, grinding his face into her shoulder. “How many more like him are out there, who I’ve led to hell?”
“Darlin’, don’t—”
“There’s no crossing back over into heaven for David.” He gasped. “I read about it. The rich man’s in hell; he’s pleading for relief of his agony. Abraham tells him there’s a divide, a great chasm.” He spoke between choppy breaths. “Once you’re in hell, it’s forever.”
They rocked in each other’s arms, surrounded by steamed windows, the Honda swaying ever so slightly by an occasional car shooting past in the night.
In that solitude, Everett’s mind lit up like the concert stage in Queens, and a sharp, unmistakable message pierced his soul. There were dozens like David at your concert; there will be thousands more… Sanctify them in truth—My Word is truth.
Eyes closed, Everett found himself nodding, vowing to rise to the occasion, promising to accept the call of a lifetime.
As Everett and Karen drove toward Twin Streams—utterly exhausted and famished—they were too tired to make dinner, so they stopped close to home, in Chappaqua, for a burger and fries. By the time they finished, Everett had filled her in on most everything that had transpired with Eddie that afternoon.
“He flat-out lied to you!” Karen stirred her chocolate shake with a plastic spoon.
“He was embarrassed.” Everett wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “That’s why.”
“Ev, this is so serious.”
“Tell me about it.”
“He’s addicted. You’ve been there. Eddie’s gonna gamble again, and you know it.”
“I begged him to let me pay for a residential treatment program.”
“I’m not sure you should have paid off that loan for him. I wish we could have talked about it first.”
“There was no time to talk, honey. I didn’t want to see him get hurt anymore. I figured, at least this stops it for a while.”
“Yeah, but—”
“They would’ve killed him if he’d missed another vig payment, okay?”
Her gray-green eyes swelled. “They said that?”
“Basically, yeah.”
“Who—”
“They threatened me, too.” Now was as good a time as any to drop the bomb. “They said if Eddie owed money and something happened to him, they’d come after me.”
She was leaning across the table now. “Who said that?”
“The captain dude, Mr. B.”
“That’s it. We need to get the police involved. Don’t you think?”
“Honey…” He groaned and began collecting the trash on the table.
Her eyes closed, she exhaled, and her shoulders slumped. “I wish you hadn’t gotten involved in this.”
“How can you say that? What if you’d never gotten involved with me? Where would I be today?”
“Ev—”
“Besides, this Mendazzo family already had tabs on me. It wasn’t like I showed up and they said, ‘Wow, this is Everett Lester, the wealthy musician.’ They did their research long before today. They knew Eddie had a brother with money.”
“I’m just saying, when you were with DeathStroke, God put it on my heart to write those letters to you.”
“What are you saying? I shouldn’t be reaching out to my brother?”
“I’m saying, we’ve got to be sure the Spirit is leading us in this—that it’s what God wants. Some people just reject God, and you’re wiser to spend your time elsewhere.”
He pushed his chair back and clasped his hands behind his head. “I really thought this was gonna be different. I’m having no impact.”
“Ev, you’re not responsible for Eddie saying yes to Christ. God is. And Eddie is.”
“He told me today I was preaching at him.”
“You’re telling him about God the best way you know how. There’s nothing wrong with that.” She shrugged. “You’re planting seeds, and others will water them, but God’s got to cause the growth.”
Everett bent forward and rested his elbows on his knees.
Karen squeezed his arm. “Back when I was witnessing to you, doors kept opening. Things were happening! You were subtly responding. Remember when I won tickets to the show in Kansas City? That was no coincidence.”
“I’m confused.” He set his gaze on her. “This isn’t right, your having to deal with all this darkness. My dysfunctional f
amily. Millie. The infertility—”
“Honey—”
“Just let me finish. I know it’s probably not true, and you’ll say it’s not, but I feel like we’re being paid back for my past sins.”
Karen reached over and covered his hand with hers. “None of this is a surprise to God.” She spoke with a courageous smile. “Why do you think all this is happening to us all of a sudden?”
“I know what you’re going to say—”
“Because of the tour,” she whispered. “God cares about souls. Remember that Scripture I sent you in prison? ‘And they overcame him because of the blood of the Lamb and because of the word of their testimony.’”
He stared at her, absorbing the encouragement like a thirsty plant.
“Satan can’t stand the thought of you sharing your testimony with thousands of people. What God’s done in your life is so radical. And He’s gonna use it for His glory.”
“I want that more than anything.” He touched her hand. “You know that?”
“Satan’s gonna make it a war.” Her eyes wandered, and she seemed to be talking to herself as much as to him. “Look how low he stoops. Trying to divide us. Scare us. Depress us.” Her eyes were glassy with tears.
Everett drew closer to her. “I hate it. I’ve been so down. And I know you have.”
“Satan wants us doubting God, doubting ourselves…” Her tears fell now.
He began to say something, but she cut in. “I know you, Ev! You’re lettin’ Satan play mind games on you. He wants you struggling over the past, weighed down by guilt…”
“What about your not being able to get pregnant?”
“What about it?” She leaned forward and squeezed his hands. “Ev, God loves us. He’s taken away the stain of our sins. Do you believe it or not?”
“Out on the ridge this morning, when we buried Millie,” he pulled his hands away, “I wanted a drink.”
She started to speak, but this time he interrupted her.
“It was overpowering. Okay? I could taste it. And I was craving how it would make me feel. And then, when you told me about the baby, the urge got twice as strong. I knew it would help me forget and cope. How is a guy like that supposed to have an impact for God?”
“Did you have a drink? Did you go get wasted?”
Full Tilt (Rock Star Chronicles) Page 12
