“It’s okay, baby.” Karen. Lovely Karen. They were together again. “It’s okay.”
Thank God.
He let his eyes close and his body go limp.
“Rest, sweetheart,” he heard her whisper. “I’ll be here.”
And he hoped it wasn’t a dream.
The next time he awoke, he squirmed on the same warm, matted sheets. It felt much later. Was it? He opened his eyes, and Karen’s lovely face came into focus. Her long, shiny hair was combed perfectly. She wore glossy lipstick and a gleaming smile.
“Hey, honey,” she whispered. “How do you feel?”
In the low light, he took in the dark wood of the hospital room, then found his wife’s smile again. “Okay, now that I see you.” His voice cracked.
Sitting beside the bed, she lifted a drink to his mouth. He sipped, cringed a bit as the water ran over what felt like glass in his throat, then drank some more.
“You’ve been out for quite a while.” She set the cup aside. “We’re at Mercy Hospital in Pittsburgh. There was an explosion—”
“And a fire.”
She nodded. “You’ve got a concussion and inhaled a lot of smoke, but you’re going to be fine. No broken bones.”
“Wesley…”
“He’s going to be fine, too. He had surgery in the burn unit, and everything’s looking real good.”
“Are you sure?” He tried to lean forward, but she eased him back down. “It looked bad…”
“I’ve been over there. His leg got the worst of it, but he’s had some incredible doctors working on him. God’s good.”
“What about Tony?”
Her head tilted and the smile faded. “He’s dead.”
Everett frowned, looked away, and shook his head.
Eternal torment. He tried to picture hell but couldn’t.
She reached for his hands and brought them close. Their faces were within inches of each other, and he drank in the smell of her perfume. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She kissed him warmly on the cheek. “I talked to Wesley.”
Everett raised his eyebrows.
“After his surgery, he asked for me.” She smiled. “He was glad you made it.”
Everett closed his eyes and relaxed.
“He admitted selling David meth before his accident. That’s been his nightmare—it’s why he tried the suicide. He said he was sorry.”
Everett wanted to hear more but was too tired to ask. He stared into her eyes, and she knew.
“He told me about the night Millie died.” Karen’s hand covered her quivering lips. “Ev, he cried. He apologized…”
Everett managed a blink and a smile. Then he cleared his throat. “So…where are we playing tonight?”
Karen burst with laughter and tears and draped her arms around Everett. Then their lips touched, and the kiss lasted a very long time.
41
SUMMER WAS IN FULL bloom at Twin Streams, and Karen relished the slower pace. After the last unforgettable Living Water show at Cleveland’s Gund Arena on February 27—when an estimated 3,000 of the 13,900 in attendance gave their lives to Christ—Everett, Gray, and the band took some much-needed time off before regrouping for the next record and possible tour.
Seated at the kitchen table wearing denim shorts and a wispy, white linen top, Karen was coming to the last few pages of Madison’s scrapbook, which detailed the events of the Living Water tour. The kettle whistled, and Karen stood and walked to the stove to pour two cups of tea for her and Madi. Turning off the burner, she stepped back and gazed out the open window.
Beautiful. The trees were full, the breeze was blowing the long grass on the hillside, and the locust trees running along both sides of the pebbled driveway were loaded with clusters of white flowers.
Everett and Wesley, both in ragged jeans, T-shirts, and work boots, bent over the hood of a big John Deere. Wesley was practically inside the engine.
“I can’t believe your brother.” Karen chuckled. “He’s amazing. I mean, Everett’s never fixed a tractor in his life.”
“He’s smart,” Madison said. “It’s been so good for him here.”
“We’ve loved having him. He’s like a different person without the meth. You told me he was sensitive; he really is.”
Madison stepped to the window and peered out. The wind nudged her frizzy hair. “You can’t even see the burns, can you?”
“Nope. He looks good as new.”
“They’ll never forget that day, will they?”
Vividly, Karen recalled the phone conversation with the Pittsburgh police officer who notified her about the explosion. It made her stomach turn again.
“Everett still wakes up at night sometimes. Says he sees Tony—burning. He can even smell it…”
“I’m glad he’s dead,” Madison said. “I mean, out of Wesley’s life.”
Karen swept some crumbs from the toaster into her hand and brushed them into the sink.
“Thank you for letting him stay in the farmhouse.” Madison nodded toward Wesley. “The fresh air, the work…he’s a different person.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie.” Karen sighed. “We’ve enjoyed getting to know him. It’s been a blessing.”
“He’s still not sure about God…”
“No.” Karen smiled. “But he’s comfortable around us. And he does ask questions, once in a while.”
“And he gets to watch you and Uncle Everett up close and personal.”
“Oh, don’t remind me! We’re far from perfect.”
“Your lives will minister to him more than anything.”
Karen reached for the cups. “How’s your mom?”
Madison stared out the window. “I wish Daddy could see her. He’d be proud.”
“She’s still off the alcohol?”
“Oh yeah, and staying busy with a zillion things. If she didn’t, she’d go stir-crazy. She misses him so much.”
“Hmm.” Karen shook her head and handed Madison her tea. “That must be incredibly tough.”
Karen sat back down at the table with her tea and flipped through the last pages of the scrapbook. When she came to the end, she stared at the clipping from Newsweek magazine dated April 21.
The spread featured a two-page photograph of Everett, wearing a Cleveland Indians cap, black sweatshirt, boots, and faded jeans. He was leaning against the huge silo out back, with acres of tilled farmland blurry in the background. The tiny caption beneath the photo read: The former rock star at his 218-acre farm in Bedford, NY.
Karen’s eyes drifted to the headline and then the story.
LESTER’S HARVEST
BY HOWARD NEWCOMB
Never before—even at the very pinnacle of the DeathStroke phenomenon—has Everett Lester’s name been more at the forefront of the world’s stage. Good or bad, this guy is apparently always going to make news or, at least, be there when it happens.
The explosion that rocked three city blocks in a poor section of downtown Pittsburgh last January brought an abrupt end to one of the United States’ most prolific methamphetamine labs. And Lester was there.
But that blast was only the start of something even more extraordinary: what appears to be the long overdue dismantling of the Mendazzo mob, the East Coast’s incredibly powerful Mafia family, headed by New York’s Frank “Machine Gun” Mendazzo and Dominic “Brain Picker” Badino. Both men are awaiting trial on multiple charges, including murder, kidnapping, extortion, racketeering, loan-sharking, bookmaking, money laundering, and narcotics violations.
Lester’s brother, Eddie, was abducted from his home last January by henchmen believed to have been part of the Mendazzo crime family; he has yet to be found. Again, Everett Lester was the flame that lit the fuse leading to the explosive trials that threaten to obliterate the Mendazzo empire.
Finally, there was last winter’s little-hyped Living Water tour, a free Christian concert led by Lester’s new band (which still has no name) and scheduled to be performed live in t
hirty-six cities around the globe. Sounded innocent enough. In fact, entertainment experts predicted the event wouldn’t even be picked up on radar by top music and media sources. How wrong they were.
As it turns out, Lester still has the Midas touch. At the six-month mark, the Living Water CD has shattered both Christian and secular sales records, netting the star megamillions in proceeds.
What will he do with the money? “It’ll be used to pay for all the concert venues we rented for the tour,” Lester told Newsweek. “It’s not cheap to rent Madison Square Garden.”
Religious or not, here’s an interesting and, I’d even venture to say, inspiring fact: Approximately 65,000 people from New York to LA, from France to Thailand, committed their lives to God for the first time as a result of attending the Living Water concerts. Before you scoff, consider the fact that many who claim they got “born again” at Lester’s free shows admit they showed up at the concerts unemployed, alcoholic, homeless, involved in marital infidelity, guilty of criminal activity, or addicted to drugs. Many of those say they left the shows with new faith, hope, and love—as well as the determination to start over again. That’s good news.
And speaking of “good news,” Lester and company handed out more than 270,000 free Bibles during the 36-city tour.
So listen, the next time you see Everett Lester on the streets of New York or at a Christian rock ’n’ roll show, tell him thanks—thanks for being there. I know I will. —HN
When Karen closed the scrapbook, Madison was gone.
Easing up from the chair, she strolled to the window. The tractor was still there, but the guys weren’t.
“Madison,” she called, heading for the back door. “Ev…”
Pushing the screen door open and wandering onto the porch in her bare feet, she noticed Rosey frolicking in the backyard. Then her eyes drifted to Everett, kneeling by a small box in the grass, and Madison and Wesley, sprawled out beside him. “What’re you guys doing?”
“You need to come here, honey.” Everett chuckled, then whispered something to the others. “We’ve got a problem.”
“Everett Lester,” she meandered down the steps, “why do I have a feeling you’re going to embarrass me or something?”
“No, really.” He laughed again. “We’ve got a problem here. Madi and Wes are no help at all. I think you’re the only one who can deal with this. Hurry up!”
Rosey was dancing about, and Madison and Wesley were beaming.
“What have you done?” Karen stopped five feet short of the group. “I suppose you’re going to have some engine part in there that needs fixing…”
“Kneel down here.” Everett reached out his hand. “And close your eyes.”
Karen shot a glance upward, took a deep breath, sighed, and knelt in the thick, cool grass.
“Close ’em!” Everett insisted.
Pursing her lips, Karen shook her head and reluctantly complied.
She heard the lid of the box open. And then a tiny whimper—a squeak so irresistible, it forced her eyes open.
“Millie’s mom had puppies,” Everett exclaimed. “We’ve got another girl!”
Karen moaned softly as she reached into the box and scooped up the little collie, a brown and white cotton ball.
So soft…and fragile.
Karen’s tears came out of nowhere, and when she could, as she squeezed the puppy with all she had, she let out a squeal. “I love her, Ev.” She glanced at each one of them through watery eyes. “This means so much, that you’d do this…”
Everett and Madison smiled enormously.
And Wesley…Wesley was crying.
Immediately following the Living Water tour, Everett and Karen had been told that the adoption process, which they entered into with gusto, could take many months. So when Everett heard that Millie was expecting puppies, he had to have one for Karen.
For now, this will be our “baby”— until God’s ready to bring us the right child.
Karen smothered the tiny fur ball, set her in the grass to prance, then scooped her up again. The little collie sneezed and licked Karen’s face, and she laughed like a schoolgirl.
Karen’s joy put Everett on another planet—until he began contemplating fatherhood once again. Even with Karen’s encouragement, the subject made him uneasy, probably because his father had not been a good one.
Feeling the heat on his face from the sun, Everett drifted back to his boyhood and the summer night he and Eddie missed their curfew. Vince waited for them in the moonlit family room wearing only a T-shirt and boxer shorts. With a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon between his legs, he sat in the recliner, snapping his fat, leather belt before beating their bottoms red—and waking up much of Cleveland’s east side.
Eddie often got the worst of the whippings, simply because he was older.
Where is Eddie, right this minute?
The laughter and voices of the others faded as Everett savored the wind on his face and looked up at the leaves blowing in the trees.
Is he alive somewhere? Does he feel this breeze? Or has he met his Maker?
Right then and there, Everett made a silent vow to find his brother—dead or alive.
The End…for now.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
DEAR FRIEND,
I hope you enjoyed Full Tilt, book two in the Rock Star Chronicles.
The Bible says that Christ Himself is kind to ungrateful and evil men. Think of that! How radical is His love? This novel really forced me—and the characters in Full Tilt—to deal with the question, and challenge, of loving the unlovable. I hope you’ll be faced with similar thought-provoking issues because of this story.
One of the things that intrigued me most in creating this tale was the remarkable and often disturbing information I discovered in my research about methamphetamines.
One of our nation’s top news magazines quoted a spokesman for the Drug Enforcement Administration as saying, “Meth is the number one rural drug in America—absolutely, positively, end of question.” An Associated Press story painted the problem as even more widespread: “Already known as a rural scourge, methamphetamine is becoming a monstrous problem in U.S. cities… It’s everywhere.”
Meth can be smoked, swallowed, injected, or snorted. Its ingredients are common household items, and the labs that produce it can fit in the trunk of a car. This relatively inexpensive, highly addictive drug acts as a powerful stimulant that actually overwhelms the brain, spinal cord, and central nervous system by interfering with normal neurotransmission.
In other words, meth kills.
Not only is meth dangerous to the people who use it, but many of its users commit brutal, senseless, alarming acts of negligence and violence. That’s because meth makes users feel euphoric and invincible. They do things they would never do sober, unspeakable things.
Please, watch for the symptoms in those you love and others in your community. Meth users range from elementary-age children to adults. They span all races and economic levels. Meth users tend to be rail thin and suffer from various skin and health conditions, including chronic itching, nasal perforations and nosebleeds, muscle cramping, scabs, rashes, constipation, and dental problems. You can find out more on the Internet, including where to get help.
It has been my pleasure to hear from so many readers around the world. Thanks for your support, and I thank God for drawing us closer to Him through the power of story.
Stay tuned for book three in the Rock Star Chronicles. Until then, you may visit my website: CrestonMapes.com. If you’d like to contact me, you may do so via e-mail at [email protected] or via Facebook.
Warm regards,
Creston Mapes
READER’S GUIDE
1. In Full Tilt, Everett Lester is a relatively new Christian. He feels a great deal of pressure to live up to the expectations of a watching world and a watching church. As a result, he has some of his tattoos removed, gets his hair cut, and even changes the way he dresses. What are your thoughts about th
is? (Check out 1 Corinthians 6:12, 19–20; 10:23–24 as food for thought.)
2. The Bible says a Christian should make sure he is never a “stumbling block” in the life of another person. This suggests that it is possible to take the liberty that is ours in Christ and to actually wound the conscience of one who is weaker. Read 1 Corinthians 8 and discuss the principles of Christian liberty and the importance of being aware of our weaker brothers and sisters.
3. Karen dreamed of having children but was devastated to learn that she was infertile. Have you ever had a dream that was dashed? What was it, and how did you cope with the disappointment? Discuss specific Scriptures that helped you, and talk about how God has since used that circumstance for good.
4. Eddie Lester claimed he would not believe in a God who would allow his son David to die, his marriage to falter, and his family to disintegrate. How should we act toward people who will not surrender to God based on negative life circumstances? What, if anything, can we say or do to lead them to Him?
5. Everett’s father was a sinful man, and for a good part of his life, Everett himself lived a sinful existence. Even when he became a Christian, Everett often felt guilty about his past sins and that God might be punishing him for his rebellious years. Does this go against the New Covenant and everything for which Jesus died on the cross? Read and discuss Psalm 51; Jeremiah 31:34; 33:8; 50:20; Micah 7:18–20; and Acts 10:43; 13:39.
6. Everett found true forgiveness when he gave his life to Christ. As a result, God removed Everett’s sins as far as the east is from the west and remembers them no more. God does the same for us—but does that mean we will not experience the consequences of our sin? Why or why not? What are some of the consequences you can experience from living your life outside of God’s plan?
7. A person might say, “I want to believe in God, but sometimes I doubt. Am I a Christian?” What is the answer to this question? Does God sympathize with our weaknesses, our questions, and our humanity? Read Hebrews 4:14–16 and discuss how it relates to your life—and Everett’s.
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