The White Knight

by Gilbert, Morris

  “Yes. She is pretty heavy,” Joelle agreed.

  “I thought movie stars and singers had to have good shapes.”

  “I don’t guess so, at least not singers. Kate Smith is everybody’s favorite. My favorite song of hers is ‘When the Moon Comes Over the Mountain.’ ”

  “I like that one too.” Gladys sat quietly then, continuing to pick the pecan meat out. From far off came the sound of a dog howling, and she looked out the window. “It’s getting dark.”

  “I should get supper started pretty soon, but we’re having leftovers tonight. That always makes it easy.”

  Gladys sat back down and watched Joelle work. “Joelle,” she said quietly, “I . . . I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t taken me in.”

  Joelle looked up with surprise and saw the pain on the girl’s face. It was exactly the sort of attitude that had touched her heart and caused her to want to help girls like Gladys. She knew that the girl had been abused by her stepfather, and she also was keenly aware that the girl had never really accepted the fact that her stepfather’s actions weren’t her fault.

  Gladys looked down at the floor for a time, then whispered, “I never told anybody, but . . . I was thinking of killing myself. I was so ashamed, Joelle!”

  Joelle put everything on the work surface and gathered the girl in her arms. “You did nothing wrong, Gladys, and now that you’re a Christian, you can put all that behind you.”

  “I just can’t seem to forget it. It keeps coming back.”

  Joelle sat down next to the girl. “Gladys, you know God says that when He saves us by the blood of Jesus, He takes all of our sins and scatters them as far as the east is from the west. I heard one evangelist say that He takes all of our old sins and buries them in the deepest part of the sea. Then He puts up a sign that says No Fishing! That’s what I want you to think of. Don’t go back into your past and think of the bad things that happened to you. Jesus took all of our sins. You start out fresh, brand-new.

  “When Jesus was here on this earth, He met some pretty bad sinners, but He forgave all of their sins—everything—not just the small sins.”

  “I sure would like to be able to forget everything, but those thoughts keep coming back.”

  “I think that’s the devil doing that. The Bible calls him the accuser. When we do something wrong, we ask God to forgive us through the blood of Jesus, and He always does. But then later on, especially when we’re quiet, maybe trying to get to sleep, the devil comes and points to our old sins and says, ‘Look at that. You call yourself a Christian? Look what you did!’ Don’t listen to him, Gladys. You just say, ‘Devil, you’ll have to take that up with Jesus.’ ” Joelle laughed then and squeezed the girl’s shoulder. “It’s good to have friends like that.”

  Gladys smiled. “I’m so glad I came here, Joelle.”

  At that moment Joelle experienced a warmth and a certainty that was not always with her. At times she had many doubts. Trying to help these troubled girls was very hard, and the threat of having the property taken by the bank was a constant concern. She had to struggle with her doubts and fears, but moments like this, seeing the light and hope in Gladys’s eyes, made it all worthwhile.

  “Say, isn’t it almost time for Lum and Abner?”

  “I’ll get the station,” Gladys said, jumping up to tune the radio. Soon the familiar words of the announcer crackled to life: “And now let’s see what’s going on down in Pine Ridge.” The two sat there listening to the captivating antics of Lum and Abner. Two crusty old bachelors getting themselves involved in ludicrous situations made the country laugh and forget their problems. Although things were not as bad as they had been in the thirties, the financial downturn was still holding the country tight in its grasp.

  Suddenly Gladys lifted her head. “Listen. Somebody’s running down the hall.”

  The door burst open, and Sunny and Shirley came running in. “There’s a dead man out in the road!” Sunny cried.

  “What?!” Joelle couldn’t believe they were serious.

  “There is!” Shirley insisted, nodding vehemently. “He’s laying there not moving.”

  Joelle rose and quickly followed the two girls outside. I should have worn a coat, she thought. It’s bitter cold out here.

  “There he is!” Sunny cried. “You see?”

  Indeed, there was a still form that was partially covered with snow. Joelle immediately put her fingers on the man’s neck. She detected a very weak but unmistakable pulse.

  “We’ve got to get him in the house. Go get the other girls.” She tried to wake the man as the rest of the girls gathered around. “Sunny, you support his head. The rest of you each take a leg or a shoulder.”

  She could see that the girls were frightened to touch him, but she said, “He’ll be all right. He’s not dead.” With great difficulty they managed to pick up the still form of the tall man and get him to the house. Getting him up the porch steps was more of a problem. “Hold his head carefully, Sunny. He might hurt his neck if you don’t support his head.”

  They managed to get up the steps, and Shirley opened the door for them. They moved into the house, and Joelle said, “Let’s put him in my bedroom. I don’t think we could get him up the stairs.” Her bedroom was downstairs, while the girls stayed upstairs.

  They maneuvered the still form onto the bed. “Gladys, you go call Dr. Brennen.”

  To their surprise the man suddenly began coughing—a retching, tearing cough.

  “He’s sick,” Phyllis said. “He’ll give us whatever he’s got. Maybe it’s cholera.”

  “Nonsense. He might have the flu or maybe pneumonia. Run now, Gladys. Tell Dr. Brennen to get here as quick as he can.”

  Gladys ran into the kitchen, and they soon heard her speaking excitedly over the phone. Joelle leaned over and looked into the man’s face. He was so thin and cold it was impossible to guess his age. She brushed the snow out of his hair, and as she did so, Sunny leaned forward and pressed against her. “He’s going to die, ain’t he, Joelle?”

  “No. I hope not. We’ll pray that God will heal him.”

  June Littleton shook her head, cynicism in her voice. “Yeah, the preacher come and prayed when my ma was sick, but she died anyway.”

  “Well, we’re going to pray that this man will live. Now, let’s get some blankets over him.” She stood there beside the sick man as the girls brought blankets, and she studied his face, wondering who he was. From the look of his clothes, he was obviously a tramp. She remembered when she was but a little girl how the hobos would come to the house and her mother would always feed them, even though they had little themselves. She placed her hand on the man’s forehead. “Lord Jesus, you’re able to do all things. Please heal this man.”

  ****

  Luke was vaguely aware of music and of hands touching him. Some of the hands seemed gentle and others seemed rough. With the hands came voices, and through the deep blackness there was one voice in particular that he learned to trust, for the hands that accompanied that voice were sure and quick. Despite the helping hands, the fever tortured him. He felt at times as if he were being roasted over a fire, and other times he shook and trembled with cold.

  Time had no meaning for him. Bad dreams troubled him. Sometimes he could escape them, other times not. He was just coming out of one of these dreams, fleeing a scene he did not want to remember. He heard a creaking sound he could not identify, and he realized he was lying on something soft. Slowly Luke opened his eyes and found himself looking up at a ceiling that was made of boards—tongue and groove. He knew that much. He was puzzled and could not think, and finally he turned his head to one side and saw a woman sitting beside him. She was rocking back and forth, and her eyes were fixed on a book she held in her lap. She looked vaguely familiar, but he was too weary to take a closer look. Suddenly he coughed, and his chest felt as if it were tearing him in two.

  “Ah, you’re awake.”

  As Luke struggled to control the cough,
the woman leaned over him and put her cool hand on his head. He stared at her, trying to put it all together. “Where is this?”

  “This is my house,” the woman said. “You’ve been very sick.”

  Luke licked his lips. His mouth seemed as dry as paper. “Can I have . . . some water?”

  “Yes. You must be very thirsty.” Luke watched, still confused and somewhat afraid as the woman poured water into a glass from a pitcher. She came back and put her arm under his shoulders and helped him sit up. “Here. Drink this. Slowly, now.” Luke drank small sips, pausing occasionally to breathe. Some of the water ran down his chin onto his chest.

  As the water cooled his throat, his mind cleared, and when she put him back on the pillow, his memory came flooding back. I was headed for Streak’s sister’s place. This is Joelle. He recognized her from the picture. She was older, no doubt, but looked the same.

  “Can you tell me your name?”

  Luke blinked his eyes and licked his lips. The memory was clearer now, especially of how Streak had died because Luke had been drinking. He was suddenly afraid that if the woman found that out, their meeting would be tragic. “My name’s Luke . . . Williams,” he said.

  “Well, Luke Williams, you’re going to be all right. I was a little afraid you weren’t for a while there. I’ll tell you what. I’m going to heat up some broth for you.”

  Luke watched her go, and as soon as she was out of the room, his mind swirled. I came here to help her, and here I am nearly dying. She’s having to take care of me instead. A black depression touched him then, and he lay there, wondering bitterly if he would ever do anything right.

  When the woman came back, she set her tray on a small table and helped him sit up in bed, pushing a couple of pillows behind his back. She seemed quite strong and had had no trouble supporting his weight.

  “I want you to eat every bit of this,” she said as she took a spoonful of the broth. “It’s warm, not hot, so we don’t have to worry about burning your tongue.”

  He opened his mouth and swallowed it.

  “I feel like a baby,” he whispered.

  “You just go right on feeling like that.” Joelle smiled. “God got you here just in time.”

  Luke looked into the woman’s clear eyes. He could see a resemblance to Streak, and he thought about what she had said but did not speak. He ate all of the broth, and then she helped him lie down again. “Now, all you need to worry about is sleeping and eating. If you do that, your body will do the rest of the work to get you back to health.”

  Luke wanted to thank her, but sleep overcame him before he could form the words. This time the darkness was not ominous but warm and comforting.

  ****

  When Luke woke up, he found one of the young girls looking down at him. He had been here four days and every day he was feeling a little stronger. He could not yet get the names of the girls completely straight. “I’ve forgotten your name,” he said.

  “I’m Phyllis. Joelle’s at work at the hospital, and she asked me to take care of you. Are you hungry?”

  “Yes.” It seemed that Luke was always hungry. Phyllis whirled and left, soon returning with a plateful of vegetables, including mashed potatoes, boiled carrots, and green beans. Luke sat up and she put the tray across his lap and set a glass of frothy milk on the bedside table. She sat down and watched him as he devoured the food.

  “You eat like a starved wolf,” she said, not trying to hide her laugh.

  “I guess I’ve missed a few meals.”

  “I guess you did. Joelle said you would have died if we hadn’t found you when we did.” She tilted her head to one side and stared at him. “Where did you come from, anyway, Luke?”

  “Nowhere in particular, I guess,” he said, spearing some green beans. “I’ve been traveling around for a while.”

  “Are you running from the law?”

  “From the law? No. What makes you ask that?”

  “Lots of guys that wander around like you did something wrong.” She laughed. “I don’t know what you’ve done, but some of us here have prob’ly done worse.”

  “How long have you been here, Phyllis?”

  “Almost five months now. It’s a real drag.” Phyllis reached up and ran her fingers through her hair. “I’m getting out of here pretty soon. This is a bunch of losers.”

  “They’ve been real good to me.”

  “Oh, Joelle’s good to people, but I need to get out. I’m going to Hollywood. I’m prettier than some of them movie stars, don’t you think?”

  Luke could not help but grin. “I think so.”

  “Yeah, I’m going to be in motion pictures with Clark Gable.”

  Luke did not mention that there were probably several million other girls who would like to do exactly that.

  As he finished his food, Phyllis told him about some of her other favorite actors. “But Clark Gable . . . he’s the best,” she concluded. She picked up his tray and started toward the door just as Sunny was coming in.

  “Now, don’t you pester Luke with questions!” Phyllis told Sunny sternly. “He needs to rest.”

  “I won’t,” Sunny said. She plopped down on the chair beside Luke’s bed. “How old are you?” she asked.

  “I’m thirty-one, Sunny. How old are you?”

  “I’m twelve. Are you married?”

  “No. Not married.”

  “Ever been married?”

  “Never have.”

  “How come?”

  Luke could not help but smile at the interrogation. “Just never met a woman that would have me, I guess.”

  “You’re not ugly,” she said. “Your face is all shrunk up here.” She touched her own cheeks. “And you got whiskers. But if you were shaved and fatted up a little bit, you’d look okay.”

  “Well, that’s good to hear.”

  Sunny continued to pepper Luke with questions, but rather than being an annoyance, he found he actually enjoyed the girl’s company. It was a nice change from hanging out with other drunks. Soon Luke started asking his own questions and found out that she had no parents and no relatives that she was aware of. She had landed at the Haven after she’d been caught stealing food from a grocery store.

  “I like it here. Joelle’s good to us all. Phyllis and June, they don’t like it. They’re gonna run away.”

  “I think this is a pretty nice place here. What are you going to be when you grow up?”

  “I’m gonna be a nurse like Joelle.”

  “That sounds like a good idea.”

  The two were still chatting twenty minutes later when Joelle came in. She had been working the overnight shift at the hospital. Her cheeks were red with the exercise and cold. “Sunny, you scoot now.”

  “I’m not through asking questions.”

  “Yes you are. You leave Luke alone.”

  Joelle edged the girl out, shut the door, then proceeded to take Luke’s temperature and pulse with the professional air of a nurse. She took the thermometer out and studied it, then said, “Ninety-eight point two. That’s good—and your pulse is good.”

  “Must be all the good care I’ve been getting here.”

  “I think you’re over the worst of it. Where were you headed when you passed out in our front yard?”

  Luke had been wondering how long it would take her to ask that question. Now he gave her the answer he had rehearsed. “I was thinking about heading south. The cold weather has pretty much done me in.”

  “It’s done a lot of people in.”

  “I’d like to help around here for a while, though, to pay for my keep.”

  Joelle laughed. She had a good laugh, a deep laugh for a woman. “You’re not going to be doing much for a while. You need to eat and rest. I’ve got to go fix breakfast now. I’ll send one of the girls up with a tray for you in a little bit. You want to sit up for a while in the chair?”

  “That would be good.”

  Joelle helped him into the chair and pulled a blanket over him. “I’
ll move the radio closer so you can listen to whatever you want.” She positioned the radio.

  “Thank you, Miss Garrison.”

  “You might as well call me by my first name like everybody else does.”

  Luke smiled up at her. “Okay, Joelle.”

  ****

  Luke put on his freshly ironed shirt, tucked it into his pants, and tightened his belt. It felt wonderful to finally get out of his pajamas. He made his way into the kitchen, noting on the calendar on the kitchen wall that it was Friday, December 22. “Almost Christmas,” he declared.

  Joelle turned from the stove, startled. She cautioned him, “Now, Luke, you don’t need to do too much.”

  “I won’t. I’ll just sit here and watch you cook. That doesn’t take much energy.”

  “I’ll tell you what.” She took a large lard can from the corner of the counter and said, “You can work on our Christmas decorations.”

  “What is this?”

  “Red berries. See, we’re stringing them.” She handed him a needle and thread that was partly filled with berries. “You just stick the needle into the berry and shove it down to the end. We can’t afford any store-bought decorations, but we’ll have a big turkey and all the trimmings.”

  Luke picked up the needle and pierced one of the berries, then pushed it down to the end of the thread. “I haven’t had much experience with needles and thread.”

  He kept threading the red berries while Joelle moved around the kitchen. He noted her efficiency and strength as she worked. It reminded him of his own mother. “Where are all the girls?”

  “Brother Prince loaded them all into the pickup truck and took them out to get a tree. I don’t know how they’re going to fit all the girls plus a tree in the back!”

  “That should be quite a sight.”

  “He’s going to put the tree up in the living room, and we’re going to decorate it.”

  “I hear you’re engaged to the reverend.”

  “Where’d you hear that? Oh, Sunny, I suppose.”

  “Yeah, she told me that.”

  “You can’t believe everything Sunny says. Asa’s just a good friend. I don’t know what we would have done without his help and the help of our church. It’s a small church,” she said, “not much money, but they’ve pitched in with all kinds of help. They furnish clothes for the girls, and they always see that we have plenty to eat.”