Beyond Reach

by Melody Carlson

  “That was nice. But how about your birthday present?” Mom inquires. “Are you happy with what we got?”

  “I totally love everything, Mom. Thanks so much!”

  Mom bought me some awesome pieces from The Gap. The coolest pair of jeans—I only had to try on about fifty-eight other pairs first, but the end result was so worth it. And then I found this sweet little pale blue jacket and matching T-shirt. And while we were waiting in line for the cashier, Mom insisted on getting these earrings and necklace that were absolutely perfect with the sweater. Altogether it's a very cool outfit that I can't wait to wear!

  “So we still know how to have fun?” Mom asks as the waiter approaches to take our order.

  “I think we do.”

  Later as Mom drives us home, it begins to rain, and my thoughts drift to Cody and the vision I had today. I wonder if he's all right. And okay, for a brief moment, I feel guilty for having had such a good day. But then I have to ask myself, what's up with that? Just because someone else is suffering doesn't mean that I shouldn't have a good day sometimes. And really, having a good time with my mom was probably way overdue.

  Suddenly I remember what Pastor Ken said about the need for balance in my life, and I decide that was exactly what today was about. Balance. Does that mean I don't need to be concerned for Cody? Not at all. But at the moment there's nothing I can do to help that kid. Except pray. And that's exactly what I do.

  By the time we get home on Saturday, I have less than an hour before Conrad will be here to pick me up for youth group tonight, and I know that's not enough time to go see Cody Even so, I give his mom a quick call. I tell her that I was thinking about Cody and, if it's okay, I'll drop by the video game that I promised to borrow for him tomorrow after church.

  Oh, that would be nice,” she says. “It might get his mind off things.”

  Off what kinds of things?”

  “He's been thinking about Peter a lot lately. Ever since you and Detective Hamilton were here. He seems very confused and easily upset.”

  “Has he told you anything new?”

  “No. Just that he misses Peter. He spends a lot of time in his room. Or playing video games. I wonder if he might be depressed.”

  I want to say, “How could he not be depressed?” but she sounds so depressed herself that I hate to add to the misery. Instead I tell her that I've been praying for them and that I look forward to seeing Cody tomorrow. “But maybe you shouldn't tell him that,” I say. “I don't want him to worry that I expect him to talk about anything, I just want to loan him the game he wanted.”

  That's fine.”

  Then I decide to put on the cool outfit I got in Portland today. I put on all the pieces together, including the boots Olivia got me, and I think I look pretty hot. Then I go down and see that Mom is wearing some new duds too.

  “Wow, you look awesome, Mom.”

  Thanks.” She smiles and does a turn that shows off her jeans. She told me that they are the first pair of cool-looking jeans that she's had since she was a teen.

  “You really do look younger.”

  “And you look great too, Sam. I love that color on you.”

  “Conrad's picking me up for youth group in a few minutes.” Then I frown. “What about you? You're all dressed up and looking cute, but do you have anywhere to go?”

  She shrugs.

  “Why don't you call Paula?”

  “Oh, I don't know.”

  “Why not, Mom? She's single too. Maybe you guys could go to a movie or something. Just have some fun.”

  “Well, I suppose I could try.”

  I get the cordless phone and place it in her hands. “Here, Mom. Go for it!”

  I can hear her talking to Paula as I get my jacket. It actually sounds like they might do something tonight. And it's fun to hear a slight lilt in my mom's voice, like she really does want to have a life. Well, this is a start. A very cool start.

  I'm pleased to see that Garrett is at youth group tonight. Conrad and I get there a few minutes late, but I immediately spot Garrett with Alex and Olivia. He still has on his dark glasses, which are cute, but he definitely needs some serious wardrobe help. I wonder if he's open to suggestions. Conrad and I go over and join them at the snack table, and Olivia gives me a thumbs-up on my new outfit.

  Youth group begins with what Nick, our youth pastor, calls “social hour.” We mostly hang and eat and drink, and some kids play stuff like Ping-Pong, pool, or the arcade games. It's pretty relaxed and a good way for kids, especially visitors like Garrett, to loosen up. Then we get together and sing. Sometimes Olivia helps lead the songs. But she seems to have the night off tonight. Then finally Nick gives a brief, but usually very good, message.

  Nick is a cool guy. He's only been youth pastor here since last fall, but everyone seems to like him. I'm guessing he's around thirty, but he seems younger. He has a goatee and a tattoo. His tattoo is on his right forearm, a cross with a crown of thorns.

  Tonight he's talking about forgiveness, telling a story about when he was a teen and how he got really angry when his parents got divorced. He thought it was his dad's fault, and for years he refused to forgive him. Then he discovered that his mom had actually been having an affair. So he got mad at her and refused to forgive her.

  The funny thing was that I still considered myself a Christian during all this time,” he says. Of course, I couldn't believe my parents were still saved and acting the way they were. In my mind, they had lost their faith when they lost their marriage, and I couldn't forgive them for any of it. But eventually my heart got so hardened against my parents that I totally fell away from the Lord too. I spent my college years messing around with all sorts of crud—you name it, I probably tried it—until one night I was so wasted that I thought I was actually going to die.”

  He pauses for a sigh. “I think I actually wanted to die. Life had no meaning, no joy, nothing but emptiness and pain. And even though I wasn't living like a Christian anymore, I started ranting at God. Like it was all His fault. Like He was the One who'd messed up my life. I was in such a rage—and did I mention plastered?—that I put my fist through my dorm window.” He holds up the arm with the tattoo and points out a scar. “And I severed an artery and nearly bled to death before my roommate came to his senses and called for an ambulance.

  “When I woke up in the hospital the next day, I was a mess. Not just physically either. I felt worthless and useless and hopeless. And I was just lying in that bed, wishing that my roommate hadn't called the paramedics and that I'd died since it seemed like the easy way out. And as I was lying there, mostly feeling sorry for myself and wishing I were dead, I suddenly got this very strong sense that I was not alone. My heart started pounding, and I knew that the presence I felt in the room was that of the Lord Jesus. I can't explain how I knew this, but I did.

  “Anyway, I just closed my eyes, and in that same instant I heard Him say, 7 forgive you, Niok. And in the same way that I forgive you, you must go and forgive others,” Nick just shakes his head. “And that changed everything. I rededicated my life to the Lord. And I forgave both my parents, as well as a bunch of other people. But I -learned a powerful lesson about forgiveness.”

  He glances around the room. “Man, it's the key to everything. Jesus meant it when He said that we're forgiven by the way we forgive. Because when we refuse to forgive, we lock ourselves up in a spiritual prison—and forgiveness is the only key to unlock that door.”

  He talks a little while longer, reading the Scriptures that back up this theory. And then we pray and he encourages us to take a few minutes to search our hearts to see if we need to forgive someone.

  Although it was a good message, I don't feel like it was really meant for me. I think hard, and the only people I can come up with are my mom and my brother. And it seems like old stuff that I should've gotten over with by now, but then again I don't want to take any chances. So I forgive Mom for the times she's hurt my feelings by not understanding or respecting my gif
t, although I'm sure I've done that before, and I'm not feeling any bitterness toward her today.

  Then I forgive Zach, once again, for becoming a drug addict and making life hard on all of us. Okay, even if I'm just jumping through a spiritual hoop, at least I did it. Then we sing a couple more songs and are dismissed.

  As usual, kids are invited to stick around and play games, eat food, or just visit for another hour or so, which we do. Conrad and Alex invite Garrett to join them playing pool, but Olivia and I decide just to watch. As we sit on the sidelines, I'm curious as to Garrett's response to Nick's message but don't quite know how to ask him without really putting him on the spot.

  “Good shot, Garrett,” Alex says after Garrett puts another ball in a pocket. “I guess I should've known that a science dude would get pool since it's mostly physics and geometry.”

  Garrett gives Alex a curious glance, like he's weighing that comment, trying to decide if it was meant as a slam or a compliment. But then he seems to let it go, and I'm glad for his sake. Being overly defensive never helps anyone.

  “Maybe you're right about Garrett,” I say quietly to Olivia. “He does seem pretty normal. Maybe he isn't the guy in my vision.”

  Olivia nods. “Let's hope not. Now tell me about the plan for tomorrow. Do I get to meet Cody, or do I just drop you off?”

  I consider this. “Maybe you should meet him. You could even challenge him to a game of Final Fantasy.”

  “Sure. Anything to help. I've been praying for the Clarks.”

  I let a yawn escape as the guys finish up their pool game, but it's barely over when they decide to play another one.

  “I think I'm going to head for home,” says Olivia.

  I glance over at Conrad. He seems to be having a good time. “Could I hitch a ride?”

  Of course, that's okay with her. And I tell Conrad that the girls are calling it a night and that I'll ride with Olivia.

  “I don't have to keep playing,” he says.

  I shake my head. “No, go ahead. I'm fine, really.”

  “How about a ride to church tomorrow?” he asks.

  “Sounds good.”

  As Olivia drives me home, I lean back in the seat and just relax. I really am tired. Then just as I'm closing my eyes, I experience that flashing sensation again. My body gets tense, and I brace myself for whatever it is that God wants to show me. But all I see is red. Red everywhere. Then almost like a lens coming into focus, I realize that it's blood. And I see a dark-haired guy whose wrists have been slit. And that's all. End of vision.

  I sit up in the seat and let out a little gasp.

  “You okay?”

  “I just had a vision,” I say slowly.

  “Really?” Olivia glances at me. “Right here? In my car?”

  “Yes.” Then I tell her about it and she, like me, gasps.

  “Ugh, that's horrible, Sam. How can you stand it?”

  I just shake my head. “But who is it? Who is the guy?”

  “Was it Garrett?”

  “I don't know. I never saw his face. Again, he had dark hair, but mostly I saw blood—everywhere. It was so gory. There's no way a person could survive losing that much blood.”

  “Do you think it was because of what Nick talked about tonight?” she asks. “Remember how he cut an artery when he put his fist through the window.”

  “Like you think that influenced my vision?” I snap at her, immediately feeling defensive even though I know there's no point.

  “I don't know…”

  “Sorry to lash at you. But, no, to your question. My dreams and visions aren't like that, Olivia.”

  “Sorry. I should've known that.”

  We're both quiet as she drives me the rest of the way home. Then I thank her for the ride and tell her I'll see her tomorrow.

  As I walk into the house, I consider her question. Why did it irk me so much? Is it only because I'm tired? Or am I worried there could be something to it? Then I remember Nick's message on forgiveness and decide I better be sure to forgive my best friend.

  The house seems quiet, which isn't so unusual. But for some reason I think maybe Mom hasn't gotten home yet. And when I check the garage, I see that her car is gone. Well, good for her. I hope she's having fun. Although it's after eleven, and I hope she doesn't stay out too late. I also wonder what she and Paula might be doing at this hour. Maybe they're having coffee after a movie. Well, whatever.

  I'm not sure how long I've been asleep when I hear a loud crash downstairs. At first I think I'm having a dream and then I realize that, no, this is for real. Could it be Zach? He used to come home late like this sometimes. But then I remember that Zach is still in rehab, or he's supposed to be. I glance at the lighted numbers on my clock to see that it's 2:13 in the morning. And then I hear another noise. Is someone breaking into our house?

  I grab my cell phone and tiptoe to the door and peek out. There are no lights on downstairs, but I can hear someone moving down there! Still clinging to my phone, I dash out of my room and straight down the hall toward Mom's. At least we can hide out together while we call the police. But when I get to Mom's room, she's not there!

  Okay, what is going on here? Has Mom been abducted? I'm just starting to dial 911 when the door to her bedroom opens and the light goes on, and there, standing in the doorway, looking nearly as shocked as I feel, is my mom.

  “Sam?” she sputters.

  “I thought you were a burglar.”

  She giggles, holding her hand over her mouth. “I knocked over a lamp.”

  I walk closer to my mom and peer closely at her slightly flushed face. “Mom?” I say in a shocked tone. “Are you drunk?”

  She giggles again. -”No, shweetie, I jus’ had a couple of drinks with Paula and I—

  “Did you drive home like this?”

  She holds her forefinger over her lips. “Shhh…you're going to wake up the neighbors.”

  “Mom!”

  Now she frowns and almost looks like she's going to cry. “Don't be mad, Sammy.”

  I take in a deep breath. “I'm not mad, Mom. But I'm concerned. Did you drive home like this?”

  She just grins and shakes her head. “No, no, I did not. The nice bartender man called me a cab.” She laughs. “He didn't call me a cab. That would be rude. He called for a cab.” She's staggering toward her bed now. I help her to lie down and slip off her shoes, then toss her chenille throw blanket on her.

  “Sleep it off,” I say in a stern voice. “We'll talk in the morning.”

  “Yesh, Mommy.”

  I roll my eyes as I walk back to my room. Maybe Nick's sermon on forgiveness was meant for me after all. Go figure!

  I get up early on Sunday morning and do damage control in the living room. I still can't believe my mom came home drunk last night. In fact, if not for the fact that there's a brokerv lamp on the floor and no car in the garage, I might've thought I'd simply experienced a new kind of warning dream from God.

  As I clean up broken porcelain, I wonder why God didn't warn me about this. I dump the shards of blue and white into the trash can and sigh. Mom's going to be sad when she discovers which lamp she broke. It was the Chinese ginger jar from her grandmother, the one she used to always tell Zach and me to be careful of. At first I thought I could glue it together, but there were so many tiny pieces, it was hopeless.

  I'm thinking about Nick's words last night, about how not forgiving his parents was his downfall. So I'm determined not to do that with Mom. I make a conscious effort to forgive her. And not to be mad or indignant.

  Okay, ì'm still irritated, but as I make a strong pot of coffee, I try to put myself in her shoes. I take a quick inventory of her life, and it seems to add up to problems: 1) Mom's not walking with God, 2) the love of her life was murdered and taken from her, 3) her oldest son is a recovering meth addict, 4) her daughter has dreams and visions, which she cannot understand, and 5) her job has been stressful. Is it any wonder the poor woman went out and got wasted last night?
>
  Not that getting drunk is going to improve the status of her life, but I suppose I can understand just slightly. Still, it worries me, and I don't know what to do. Well, besides pray. And I'm already doing that.

  “You're sure quiet today,” Olivia says as she drives me to the Clark home. “Did I offend you last night when I said that stupid thing about your vision? I'm sorry. I think I was just tired.”

  “No, that's not it at all.” I tell her about Mom's late night antics. Okay, it's a little embarrassing telling your best friend that after your mom had a makeover that makes her look young and cool, she suddenly starts acting like a teenager on a drinking binge.

  “I feel like it's my fault,” I admit. “It's like I wanted her to have fun and have a life. I encouraged her to call Paula. Who knew they were going to go barhopping?”

  Olivia actually laughs. “It is not your fault, Sam. And if I know your mom, she probably feels horrible right now.”

  I kind of chuckle. “Actually, she does feel horrible. But that's from the hangover.”

  “Yeah, well, when the hangover's over, I'll bet you that your mom will be really sorry.”

  “I guess.”

  “Let's pray for Cody,” says Olivia suddenly. “I have a feeling God is going to use you today, Sam.”

  Okay” Not that I feel terribly usable at the moment, but then God is God—so who knows? So we pray, and Olivia asks God for a miracle. I agree and we both say amen, and then we're there.

  I feel nervous as we walk toward the house, so I continue to pray for Cody. I'm wondering if I'll get a chance to really say something meaningful to him today. Or if I should even say anything without having Ebony here. Then again, I have a feeling Ebony would encourage me to get the boy to talk.

  Mrs. Clark lets us in then disappears, I assume to her bedroom. I introduce Cody to Olivia and produce the coveted video game, and he suddenly brightens.

  “Want to play it now?” asks Olivia, sitting on the couch right next to him.