If Memory Serves

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  Chapter 7

  Remember ye not the former things, neither consider the things of old.

  Isaiah 43:18

  Lena was up early. She had helped Sarah get ready. Sarah still liked to dress nicely even if she was only planning to sit around the house all day. The past few days, Lena had been thinking of things she could do to possibly cheer Sarah up and keep her mind off Memory as much as possible. The Saturday started off a beautiful sunny one.

  Richard had gone early to play golf with a group of men he’d formed a friendship with from earlier visits to Asheville. They preferred hitting the golf course in the early morning hours, especially during the summer months, when midday could be rather hot. All of the men were in their late fifties and early sixties. Lena and Sarah were sitting out on the terrace about to eat breakfast when the doorbell rang.

  “Will you get that, Lena?” Sarah asked. “It’s probably my friend Polly checking up on me. Like clockwork, she stops by early every Saturday morning.”

  Polly Swindle was a woman in her mid-fifties Sarah had met at church when she came back to Asheville to live. Polly made it a point to stop by frequently. And when she didn’t come, she’d call to check on her friend. Sarah had left Polly a message telling her she didn’t have to worry about her this week since Lena and Richard were there. Sarah figured either Polly didn’t get the message or she just wanted to come by anyway.

  Lena hurried to the door. She saw a woman with her back to the door. Lena, smiling, opened the door. The woman faced her; Lena’s smile dropped. “You,” she said.

  “Lena?” the woman said, her head held high. “You look wonderful. I mean, look at you. You got your face fixed and everything!” She smiled as she shook her head. “My, my, no one would ever be able to tell you were once badly scarred in a fire.”

  Lena’s voice was soft as she tried to control her emotions. “What are you doing here? Why don’t you just leave now and save everybody a lot of heartache later?”

  “Now, why on earth would I want to do a thing like that? I’ve come to see Sarah Fleming.” She turned and beckoned for the cab driver before continuing. “Would you be so kind as to let Sarah know I’m here?” Her voice was soft and nonthreatening.

  “Lena, who’s that at the door?” Sarah called out as she slowly shuffled into the foyer toward the entranceway. “Polly, dearest, is that you? Your timing is impeccable.”

  Lena turned around to Sarah as she tried to keep the person at the door out of Sarah’s vision. “No, it’s not Polly. Why don’t you go back out on the terrace?”

  “Well, if it’s not Polly, then who is it?” Sarah asked as she continued to get closer, attempting to get a better look at the visitor standing in the doorway.

  The woman stepped inside the house, politely pushing her way past Lena.

  Sarah, now almost face to face with the stranger, stopped and looked at her. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were some—” She began to look closer. “Do I know you?”

  “Sarah Fleming?” The woman extended her hand. “My name is Memory.”

  Sarah placed both hands on her heart. “Memory?” she said. She appeared to be struggling for her next breath. “My Memory?” She reached out to her. “Is it really you?” Just then, her right hand clutched her chest as her body crumpled to the floor.

  Chapter 8

  In those days was Hezekiah sick unto death. And

  In those days was Hezekiah sick unto death. And

  Isaiah the prophet the son of Amoz came unto him,

  and said unto him, Thus saith the Lord, Set thine

  house in order: for thou shalt die, and not live.

  Isaiah 38:1

  Johnnie Mae sat in the window seat in the kitchen nook enjoying the sun early Saturday morning. She was deep in thought. In just two more weeks, she would be entering her seventh month of pregnancy. Her mother was still holding her own, although lately it appeared she was having more bad days than good ones. It was June 4th, four days since Memory had disappeared without a word. Johnnie Mae felt awful having been so close to reuniting Sarah with Memory, only to have it blow away in what amounted to mere minutes.

  Sarah had insisted when she and Johnnie Mae spoke four days ago that Johnnie Mae not beat herself up about it. “It wasn’t your responsibility, and it’s not truly your problem,” Sarah had said. “If it’s for me and my daughter to meet, it will happen. In God’s good time, I have to believe, it will happen. You told her, and either she didn’t believe you or she didn’t care. Either way, it’s not on you. And I don’t want you to feel bad about it, do you hear me?”

  But Johnnie Mae couldn’t help but feel bad. Maybe she hadn’t gone far enough with the truth. Maybe she hadn’t been convincing enough. Maybe she shouldn’t have let Memory out of her sight until she’d personally delivered her to Sarah’s door.

  The phone rang, causing Johnnie Mae to jump. She got up and looked at the caller ID. The number was unfamiliar to her.

  “Hello?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry to bother you so early on a Saturday morning like this, but is Pastor Landris available, please?” The older woman’s voice shook as she spoke.

  “Hold on, let me check,” Johnnie Mae said as pleasantly as she could muster. She wasn’t sure if Landris was awake yet or not. She pressed the button to place the line on hold and walked up the stairs to their bedroom.

  “Landris?” she said when she walked inside and didn’t find him still in bed.

  He stuck his head out of the bathroom. “Morning, baby.”

  “Good morning. The phone’s for you. Line one.”

  “Do you know who it is?” he asked as he walked out of the master bath.

  “No. I wasn’t sure if you were up yet, so I didn’t ask. She’s been holding a few minutes.” That was his cue to not keep the person waiting any longer than necessary.

  Landris walked over to the phone on the nightstand and pressed the button. Johnnie Mae left and headed back downstairs. Now that she knew Landris was awake, she decided to fix him some pancakes and fresh fruit for breakfast. He still liked his cup of coffee every morning, even on weekends, so she started a fresh pot of coffee. She wasn’t a big coffee drinker before she got pregnant. Now that she was, she had cut down on her caffeine intake of all kinds to as little as possible.

  Landris came into the kitchen just as she was finishing up. He walked up behind her, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her twice on the cheek. “You didn’t have to fix me breakfast this morning,” he said.

  Johnnie Mae handed him his plate. “Oh, but I enjoy doing things for you,” she said. “So, who was that calling so early, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Landris bit down on his bottom lip as he went and sat at the table. “That was Reverend Knight’s wife. He had asked her to call me. But she was also calling to tell me that the doctors weren’t giving him much time left. In fact, they’re not expecting him to make it through the day. She didn’t want him hearing what the doctors were saying, so she called me from her cell phone.”

  “Are you going over there now?”

  “Yeah. I wanted to get there as soon as possible. But first I’m going to eat this wonderful breakfast”—he waved his hand over his plate—“you so lovingly made me.”

  She set a cup of coffee down next to him and brushed his dreadlocks with her hand a few times. “You don’t have to eat this, if you want to go on over to the hospital now. It’s okay. I know how close you’ve grown to Reverend Knight over this year.”

  “Yeah.” He bowed his head and prayed, then looked back up and started eating some pineapples. “I still need to eat. Who knows how long I’ll be, once I get there?”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” She sat down across from him.

  He took a bite of pancake. “No. I know you’re still trying to get over what happened with Memory. Besides, didn’t you say your blood pressure was up when you went to the doctor on Thursday, and that your hands and feet were swelling yesterday?”


  “Yes. But right now I feel fine.”

  “Well, I don’t want you overdoing it. I don’t want to take any chances with you or our baby. So you just rest like Dr. Baker told you. And please quit worrying about Sarah and Memory. I know you, Johnnie Mae. But this battle is not yours; it’s the Lord’s.”

  She sighed. “I’m not worrying. I just feel bad about how things turned out.”

  “Then you need to quit feeling bad. Do you understand me?”

  “I know. But we were so close there, and then—”

  He took his fork, speared a piece of fresh strawberry, and held it up to Johnnie Mae’s mouth—effectively halting her from saying another word as he put the fruit into her mouth. “And then it didn’t happen,” he said. “So don’t worry yourself about what you can’t change. You did your best. In fact, you did more than most folks I know would have even attempted to do. You brought Memory to our home. You were going to let her stay here.” He shoved some more pancake into his mouth and gulped down his coffee.

  “I know, Landris. It’s just hard when you come as close as we did and you end up letting it slip through your fingers. But you’re right—I can’t change what’s already passed. We’ll just have to keep praying and believing that God is working it all out.”

  Landris finished the last of his fruit and coffee. “Not is working—has worked it out. In the spirit realm, it’s already done. We just have to walk it out down here. God’s will will be done on earth as it already is in Heaven.” He grabbed a paper napkin out of the holder on the table and briskly wiped his mouth. Standing up, he then kissed her with a quick peck on her lips. “Get some rest today, okay? If you’re going to pray, then stop worrying about it. Just thank God that—”

  “It’s already done,” Johnnie Mae said, finishing the familiar saying. She looked at him and smiled as he put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. “Give Reverend Knight my love, and tell Mrs. Knight that if she needs anything to not hesitate to let me know.”

  “I’ll tell her. But I’m telling you, I’m not going to let you overdo it. For now, your job is to take care of yourself and our baby.” He put his hand on her stomach and grinned.

  Landris hurried to Brookwood Hospital. He prayed for his friend as he drove, reflecting back to the first time they’d met in that old rundown building he was looking to lease or buy to begin his ministry in Birmingham. He hadn’t been sure whether or not he could really trust Poppa Knight, as the older man preferred being called. But in time, they had become close. By then, Reverend Knight had been diagnosed with lung cancer. Reverend Knight managed to attend their first service in the new sanctuary of Followers of Jesus Faith Worship Center even though he was sicker than he was letting anyone know.

  When Landris arrived at the Critical Intensive Care Unit, or CICU, Mrs. Knight greeted him at the entrance of Reverend Knight’s room.

  “Pastor Landris, thank you so much for coming so quickly,” she whispered.

  “Who’s that?” Reverend Knight asked, his voice muffled by an oxygen mask.

  Mrs. Knight nodded and smiled at Landris as she turned back toward her husband. “It’s Pastor Landris. He’s here to see you. I’ll leave you two alone for a few minutes.”

  “How are you feeling this morning, Poppa Knight?” Landris asked as soon as he was next to the bed. Seeing his mouth covered, he wasn’t actually expecting him to talk.

  Reverend Knight took the oxygen mask off and tried hard to smile. “Hanging in here,” he said, hardly able to speak as he held up his hand to show the IV tubes attached.

  “I can’t stay long. They’re making an exception for me to visit with you outside of normal visiting hours. But you know I had to come by this morning and see you,” Landris said.

  Reverend Knight closed his eyes and swallowed. “How long?” he whispered.

  “Well, the nurses are pretty strict about these minutes,” Landris said.

  Reverend Knight opened his eyes wider and shook his head. “No. To live. Doc, the truth.” Doc was what Reverend Knight called Landris from time to time.

  Landris touched his hand. “Reverend—”

  “Don’t, Pastor Landris. Please don’t. Don’t do me like everyone else. Tell me—how long are they saying I have left?” His voice was barely a decent whisper.

  Landris moved in a little closer. “Not very long. But you know man doesn’t have the final say-so. You recall in the book of Isaiah?”

  “Hezekiah,” Reverend Knight said, nodding. “He was dying. Isaiah told him the Lord said for him to set his house in order because he was going to die and not live.”

  “Yes, Hezekiah. Only I was thinking more about the part where Hezekiah turned his face toward the wall and prayed unto the Lord. And God told Isaiah He had heard Hezekiah’s prayer and had seen his tears.”

  “And God added fifteen more years to his life,” Reverend Knight said, smiling.

  Landris squeezed his hand. “Yeah—that part.”

  Reverend Knight struggled to speak. “I’ve already turned and prayed once. And God has given me more time than the doctors originally gave me. I’ve made my peace; I’m ready to go home to be with the Lord. I just wanted to see you and to thank you while I still could.”

  “Thank me for what?”

  “For helping me to see the error of my ways and getting things straight with so many people before I leave this earthly tabernacle. The relationship I’ve had with my wife this past year”—he began to gasp for air—“has been such a blessing. I only regret I didn’t change sooner so she and I could have experienced this much earlier. All that wonderful time lost because of my arrogance and pride.” He touched Landris’s hand. “Keep doing what you’re doing, Doc. No matter what people say about you—no matter who may try to stop you.” He wheezed. “You’re making a tremendous difference for the Kingdom. I’m a living example of that.”

  “Reverend Knight, I feel your heart. Save your strength, okay?”

  “Save my strength?” He grimaced. “For what? No, I have to encourage you to keep pressing toward the mark. Still, you need to watch your back and pray. Watch and pray.” He closed his eyes. “Will you do one other thing for me?” He opened his eyes. “Will you check on my wife from time to time to ensure she’s all right after I’m gone?”

  “I’ll do that. I promise.”

  Mrs. Knight came back into the room. Landris looked at her as she stood on the other side of her husband’s bed.

  Reverend Knight turned to her. “Joyce, I want Pastor Landris to preach my eulogy,” he said.

  She put her hand on his hand. “Paul, let’s not talk about this right now—”

  “If not now, then when? I want Pastor Landris to preach my funeral when I’m gone.” He took hold of her hand. “Please.” He looked at them both.

  “Sure, Paul. If that’s what you want. But what about Marshall?” she asked, referring to Reverend Marshall Walker. “He’s always believed he would be the one who would preach your eulogy if you went before him.”

  “Call Marshall again for me and ask him one more time to come and see me,” Reverend Knight said to her.

  The nurse came in. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave now,” she said, her attention directed at Landris. “We don’t want Reverend Knight to overexert himself.”

  “Of course,” Landris said. He turned to Reverend Knight. “I’ll be back to see you later, okay?”

  Reverend Knight nodded. “Thank you for coming.”

  Landris patted his hand. “Sure thing, Poppa Knight.” He smiled. “Sure thing.”

  Reverend Knight closed his eyes as though he was trying to hold back tears. He nodded as the nurse placed his oxygen mask back on.

  Landris went home.

  Later that afternoon, the phone rang. Johnnie Mae answered it. She quickly made her way to the exercise room, where Landris was. “I just got a call,” Johnnie Mae said, breathing hard.

  “Mrs. Knight?” Landris asked as he continued pumping the bar with its round
weights attached to each end into the air. “Has Poppa Knight taken a turn for the worse?”

  “No, it wasn’t about Poppa Knight. It was Lena Patterson.”

  “Lena?” He held the bar with the weights high and steady in the air.

  “Yeah. She’s still at Sarah’s house. Memory showed up there this morning!”

  Landris set the weights back on the bench holder and sat up. “Memory showed up at Sarah’s house? But how? How did she know where to find her?”

  “I’m not sure of all the details. But apparently the shock of finally seeing Memory was too much for Sarah. They put her to bed and had to bring her doctor in.”

  Landris grabbed his towel and wiped some of the sweat off his muscled body. “Is she going to be all right?”

  “They’re not sure. But she is conscious. Lena wanted to know what we thought about Memory, since we spent time with her. She asked if I felt Memory could be trusted.”

  “What did you say?”

  Johnnie Mae handed him his bottle of water. “That she seemed to be on the up-and-up with us as far as we could tell. Even her leaving the way she did—she never promised she’d stay or that she would go meet Sarah. I don’t know, Landris. I told her she has to pray about it and go with how she feels she’s being led.”

  The phone rang. Johnnie Mae jumped. “I’ll get it,” Landris said as he walked over to the phone on the wall. He spoke for a few minutes, then hung up. “That was Mrs. Knight. Reverend Knight just lapsed into a coma. I’m going to go over to the hospital to make sure she’s okay.”

  “Yes, of course. Do you want me to come with you this time?”

  He took her hands and looked at them. They were still swollen. “What I want is for you to go back up those stairs and get off your feet. I’m going to shower and change. I’ll bring you and Princess Rose something for lunch when I come back.” He kissed her and began walking with his arm around her expanded waist as they made their way up the stairs together.