When Heaven Weeps

by Ted Dekker

  She scrunched her brow. “I’m not saying we should do nothing. Simply that the police will do something, and we should wait until we see what they do. And I’m saying that you’re in no condition to run around.”

  She took up her bowl and dipped into it again, but her soup must have been cold because she set it down. “Then again, I may be wrong. I could easily be wrong. I wouldn’t have suggested that Nadia do what she did, and yet it was the right thing. It was beyond her.”

  “It was the right thing. And if this madman were to kill Helen, I think I would kill him.”

  Ivena sat in her armchair, glassy-eyed. Neither of them was seeing things too clearly, Jan thought. Yes, he had seen the vision clearly enough, but it gave him no clues how to save Helen. And that was the one thing they both did see: Helen did need saving. Not just from the monster, but from her own prison.

  “I wanted to, you know,” Ivena said.

  “You wanted to what?”

  “I wanted to kill Karadzic.” A tear left its wet trail down her cheek. “I tried, I think.”

  “And so did I.”

  “But Nadia didn’t. She didn’t even want to kill him. And neither did the priest. They chose to die instead.”

  Jan turned back to the fading light. What could he say to that? His head was hurting. “Yes, they did.” He returned to the couch, suddenly exhausted.

  Ivena stood and took their dishes to the kitchen and just like that the conversation was over. They did not return to the subject until late that night. “So I guess we just sit tight and see what the police do for now?” Jan asked after Ivena had announced her intentions to retire.

  “Yes, I guess so.”

  “And we’ll deal with the ministry tomorrow. The employees will be concerned about my absence.”

  “Fine.”

  And that was that. She made sure that he was in good shape, fed him a painkiller, and left him to sleep.

  JAN DIDN’T sleep quickly. He’d spent half the day in sleep and it didn’t return so easily now. Instead he began to think about what the others would say to this. Or at least what they would say to what he would tell them about this, because he wasn’t sure he could tell Roald and Karen all the details.

  In fact, he wasn’t sure he would be telling Karen anything soon. He didn’t even know if she was still working for him. Did she know what had happened to him? He hadn’t shown up for work Friday, but that was not unheard of. And the dinner! He’d missed the dinner in New York!

  Suddenly Jan was wide awake. He tried to put the concerns out of his mind. Tomorrow was Monday; he would find out then. But the thoughts chased about his mind like a rat on a running wheel. Karen’s face—her sweet smiling face—and then her angry slap. Perhaps he’d been a fool to tell her about Helen. He could hardly even imagine what would become of his relationship with Helen. They would . . .

  He didn’t know what they would do. If indeed she came out of this in one piece. And yet he had sacrificed his relationship with Karen already. Hadn’t he?

  Jan finally threw the sheets from his legs in a fit of frustration and walked for the phone.

  He called Roald. The man’s gruff voice filled the phone on the tenth ring. “Hello.”

  “Roald, this is Jan.”

  “Jan. What time is it?”

  “It’s late, I know. I’m sorry—”

  “Everything okay?”

  So. The man had not heard. “Yes. Have you talked to Karen?”

  “Not since our conference call. Why? Weren’t you with her in New York yesterday?” “No, we had a problem with that. Listen I have something I need to talk to you about. Can you come by my house tomorrow?”

  “Your house? I suppose I could. What’s up?”

  “It’s nothing, really. Just something I’d like your input on.”

  They agreed to meet at ten.

  It took Jan another hour to shake the mental mice and drift into sleep.

  THE MORNING came quickly, to the sound of Ivena’s singing in the kitchen— “Jesus, Lover of My Soul.” She was in there cooking something that flooded the house with a delicious smell. “Let me to Thy bosom fly,” her voice warbled.

  Jan lifted himself to his elbows and fell back with the aches of stiff sleep. By the time he’d loosened enough to walk out to the kitchen, she was already setting the table. She saw him, still dressed in his pajamas, and she chuckled. “Oh my, my, look at yourself.”

  He glanced at his reflection in the chrome oven-hood and saw that she referred to his hair; it stood straight up past the white bandages. He flattened it. “I am a sick man, Ivena. Don’t cross me.”

  “Not sick enough to stay in bed, I see.”

  “And did you expect less?” he asked, motioning to the two place settings.

  “No. I have had a wonderful sleep, Janjic.”

  He hobbled for the chair. “That’s more than I can say. I feel like a steamroller ran over me.” He then told Ivena about his call to Roald. “They don’t know. Karen doesn’t know. I don’t know if she’s even on board any longer.”

  “No?”

  “How can she work for me? This isn’t good.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “She’s the backbone of the ministry.”

  “No, the testimony’s the backbone, Janjic. The Dance of the Dead. The martyr’s song. The testimony you’ve been waving about like a flag for five years; that is the backbone of the ministry.”

  “Yes, and it’s been Karen who’s done most of the waving. I’m nothing but the flagpole. Without her . . . I can’t imagine what it would be.”

  She chuckled. “So then choose your women carefully, Janjic. They all want my handsome Serb. So many women . . .”

  “Stop your nonsense. It’s more serious than you think,” he said, and ordinarily he would have grinned, but his heart was sick. “Do you know that I missed a dinner engagement in New York on Saturday night?”

  She cast him a side glance. “Am I hearing some anger in this voice of yours, Janjic?”

  He sipped at the steaming coffee. “Maybe. I’m not sure I’ve done the right thing with Karen. I feel like I’ve cut off one leg to save the other and now I may lose both.”

  “Don’t worry, you will find your way. And I’m sure that missing one meal with Karen won’t have any bearing on the path you end up taking.”

  “The dinner was with the movie people.”

  “Yes, and I’m not sure about this movie business anyway.”

  “Well, it’s too late. It’s finished.”

  “What is finished? Your life is finished, so now they will make a movie of it? I don’t think so. We will see what happens to your movie deal, Janjic.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Still, we will see.” She said it smiling. “Roald will be here soon enough. It’s already nine-thirty.”

  Nine-thirty! He hadn’t realized it was so late. Jan excused himself and hurried off to dress.

  Roald arrived fifteen minutes later while Jan was still in his room, struggling to get his socks on without ripping his stitches. “Where is he?” the elder statesman’s voice boomed.

  “Take a breath, my friend. May I get you something to drink?” Ivena returned.

  Jan shook his head at her condescending tone. He entered the living room behind Roald, who’d taken a seat. The man was wearing a black tailored double-breasted suit familiar to Jan. “Good morning, Roald.”

  The man did not turn. “Jan I hope you have more sense than I think you have, partner. What in tarnation did you do to Karen?”

  Roald turned, saw Jan’s head, and came out of his chair. “What on earth happened to you?”

  “Nothing,” Jan said, sitting. He wore a navy shirt that covered his chest wounds. “Sit. So, I take it you talked to Karen.”

  “Doesn’t look like nothing. Goodness, what happened? Are you okay? You look like you’ve been trampled by a herd.” He sat.

  “Not quite. Tell me about Karen first.”

  “Kar
en? Well, Karen’s in New York, did you know that?”

  “We had a dinner engagement there Saturday night. I couldn’t make it.”

  “And you didn’t have the decency to at least call? They had the dinner without you, you know.”

  “Honestly, Roald. I was quite tied up.” He said it without humor. “So Karen attended?”

  “No. And frankly that’s a problem. What happened to you?” he asked for the third time.

  Ivena interrupted them when she brought drinks, and then excused herself. She had some flowers that needed tending, she said. They would have to conquer the world on their own. She gave Jan a wink and left.

  “So, no one from the ministry attended the dinner, then?” Jan asked.

  “No one. It was a handful of executives from Delmont Pictures and the publisher.”

  “Goodness, what a mess. I’m sure Karen’s upset about that.”

  Roald leaned back and picked up the coffee Ivena had placed by his chair. “Actually, she seems to care less about all that. She’s directed her anger to you, my friend.”

  “Me?”

  “You. She seems to think there may be a problem. There are greater concerns at hand now, and I told her as much. We’re on the verge of breaking new ground; you realize that, don’t you? No one’s ever done what we’ll do with this film. It’s unprecedented. Already the whole evangelical community is talking about it. I’m out there talking you two up to the world—speaking about how the ‘Jan and Karen show’ will change the way Christianity is seen in the broader realms of arts and entertainment—and unbeknownst to me, the two of you are home having a world-class spat. It’s embarrassing to say the least.”

  “And you shouldn’t be embarrassed. You’re mistaken—we’re not having a fight. We had a talk. Karen took it badly. That’s all.” That was not all, of course, and Jan knew it well.

  “Then maybe you can explain to me why she’s talking about moving her things out of the office.”

  “She’s leaving?”

  “Not yet. But she seems to think the engagement’s in some sort of jeopardy, and I told her that was nonsense. There’s far too much at stake.”

  Jan cringed. “I didn’t break off the engagement.”

  Roald nodded. “I told her that you cared for her, you know. She went on about this Helen character that you’ve helped, and I told her there was no way on God’s green earth that you—after all that you’ve been through and with all that lies ahead of you—would do something so foolish as fall for a hooker. The church would throw you out on your ear! I think Karen somehow got the idea that you were actually losing interest in her, Jan. You have to watch your words, my friend. Women’ll take what you say farther than you intend.”

  “Helen’s not a hooker.” He could see a glint cross the man’s eyes.

  “Hooker, junkie, tramp . . . what’s the difference? She’s not the kind of woman you can be seen with. It would be a problem. Especially with Karen in your life. You do see that, don’t you? We warned you as much.”

  Jan nodded. This was not going as planned. Roald was somehow moving him along a path of reason he didn’t want to travel.

  “Do you know what a rare woman Karen is?” Roald asked. “Yes, of course you do. That’s what I told her just an hour ago. And do you know what she told me?”

  “No.”

  “She told me that matters of the heart have nothing to do with what’s rare or common, or right or wrong. The heart follows its own leading. And you know she’s right. So I guess I have to ask you, Jan, where is your heart leading you?”

  Jan swallowed. “I don’t know. I mean I do know. But the direction seems to change.”

  Roald blinked a few times. “It does, does it? In case you hadn’t realized it, Jan, my boy, you’re not some adolescent teenager; you’re a full-grown man with the trust of the church. And you’re engaged to be married, for heaven’s sake! Don’t you think sticking your nose in the air to sniff out where the winds of love are blowing on any particular day is a bit preposterous for a man of your standing?”

  “Don’t lecture me, Roald. Did I say that I was sticking my nose in the air? Not that I can remember. You asked about my heart, not my will. If you want me to be straight with you, then give me some respect.”

  Roald took a deep breath. “Fine. I only hope that your will doesn’t flip-flop like your heart. You do know if you don’t find a way to reconcile with Karen, we stand to lose everything. Millions.”

  Jan stared at him, angry now. “Millions? This isn’t about money!”

  “No, but it is about a whole lot of basic issues that seem to have escaped your reason more frequently lately. We’re changing the world with this, Jan! We’re moving the church forward.” He grasped his hand to a fist as he said it. “And you want to throw that all away over a woman?” Roald leaned forward. “Never! If you were to jeopardize this project by taking to this tramp of yours, the board would undoubtedly remove its endorsement of you. I can hardly imagine Bob’s or Barney’s reaction. Frank Malter would do backflips. I would have to consider leaving myself.”

  Jan leaned back, stunned by the statement. He sat speechless.

  Roald tilted his head. “I know that’s not going to happen, because I know you’re not that stupid. But I want to be absolutely clear here: I will tie neither my name nor my goodwill to a man who betrays the trust of the church by taking up with a freak.”

  “She’s not—”

  “I don’t care what she is, she’s out!” he thundered. “You hear? She’s out, or I’m out! And without Karen and me, your world’ll come crashing down around your ears, my friend. I can promise you that.”

  This couldn’t be happening! Roald was gambling, of course, positive that Jan had no real intention of continuing any relationship with Helen.

  Roald sat back and crossed his legs and let his breath out slowly. “Now, I’m not saying that you have to resolve this all by day’s end. I’m not saying you have to kick her out on the street, but there are places that care for women like her. Where is she anyway?”

  “She’s not here.”

  “Good. That’s a start.” Roald paused. “Jan, I know this may sound rather harsh, but you have to understand that I’m protecting a much larger interest. An interest which has bearing on not only you and me and Karen, but on the whole church. The Dance of the Dead has and must continue to impact the church at large.”

  “But not at the expense of its own message,” Jan said thickly.

  “No, of course not.”

  “And yet you are meddling with God’s love.”

  “God’s love. What’s God’s love without purity? I’m rescuing you from dipping into deception, my friend.”

  For a while they sat in silence—Jan because he had nothing to say; Roald probably for effect. “You agree then?” Roald said.

  “I’ll think on it,” Jan said.

  “And you’ll give Karen a call?”

  Jan didn’t answer that one. His head was still spinning. Spinning and aching.

  Roald evidently took his silence for a positive sign. “Now, tell me how you managed to bump your head. My goodness, it looks horrible.”

  He wasn’t about to tell Roald the grim details now. “It was nothing. Rather embarrassing really. I was jumped by a couple of hoodlums,” he said.

  “Hoodlums? You were robbed? Good night! You filed a report?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. When will the bandage come off?”

  “It’ll be off in a few days, I guess. It happened Friday, and I ended up in the hospital. That’s why I missed the New York trip.”

  “You were in the hospital? I had no idea! Well that explains a lot. Karen’s due back today.” He patted Jan’s knee and gave him a wink. “You let me handle this, Jan. I’ll call her for you. You know how women love to care for the wounded. She’ll be doting on you before you know it.”

  Jan wanted to slug him then. It was the first time he’d felt quite so offended by the man’s audacity,
and it swept over him with a vengeance.

  Roald stood and set down his glass. “I’m just looking out for you, buddy.” He stretched out his hand and Jan took it. “I’ll see you soon. Call me when you have things straightened out.” He started for the door and paused.

  “By the way, Betty wanted me to tell you that she would call this afternoon. They are concerned, naturally. And she said she’s praying. And that all bets are off—she said you’d know what that meant.” He lifted an eyebrow.

  Jan nodded.

  Roald left then and Jan steamed through his house, tending to his errands, which amounted to little more than getting himself another drink and finishing some cold breakfast. The visit had made a bad day impossible, he thought. Not only was he sick about Helen, he was now forced to feel sick about feeling sick. Roald was robbing him of his true purpose. He was a thief. One who pulled many strings in the evangelical church, and one who made some pretty compelling arguments, but a thief just the same.

  And Helen? Father, rescue me from this pit, he prayed. Lead me out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  IVENA STOOD in the greenhouse, blinking at the sight, breathing, but barely. There was a new feel in the air.

  To her left Nadia’s rosebush had died, but you would never know it without digging through the swarming green vines to the dried branches beneath. No fewer than fifty vines now ran from the bush along the wall, reaching at least twenty feet toward the rose beds along the adjacent wall. Bright green leaves dominated the heavy foliage, but they paled under the dozens of large flowers that flourished along each vine, each as crisp and white as the day they first bloomed.

  And all of this in two weeks.

  Joey hadn’t finished his analysis, but Ivena hardly cared. She knew now that he’d find nothing. This was a new species.

  She stepped forward and stopped. The strong, sweet scent flooded her lungs like a medicinal balm. The orchids to her right were looking soft due to her neglect. So be it; she’d lost her interest in any but these new flowers. And today there was something new in here; she just couldn’t put her mind to it.