A Younger Man (Mount Faith Series: Book 7)

by Brenda Barrett

  Vanley exhaled, but it did nothing to settle his thoughts. He felt like pacing. He felt like praying. He hadn't brought all of this before God and laid it out to Him yet. Instead, he had decided to play detective, and now he realized that he was in over his head.

  "Davia," he grabbed the hand that was on the table and squeezed it. "Thank you for snooping for me. I don't know what to do with this information though."

  "We could go to Cherry Gardens," Davia said breathlessly. His warm hands were cupping hers and caused a warm tingle where their fingers met. She liked that and almost felt bereft when he drew away his hand.

  "I don't know," Vanley said. "This is a bit much. I am just a country pastor. I didn't know that I would have to jump through so many hoops just to get some information on Anita."

  "Let's do it," Davia said. "I have snooped this far. I must admit that I am very intrigued to find out what the secret is."

  Vanley was about to tell her that the secret was probably already revealed but he stopped short of saying anything. Obviously, Davia was looking for an adventure. He could see the sparkle in her eyes: the thrill of solving some mystery involving her boss. What if they found something huge, something that Anita wanted covered that she may not want her secretary to know either?

  Now that he had information, he was reluctant to act on it. His feelings about the situation were confusing even to him.

  He sighed again. "Davia, I'll let you know what I plan to do. Okay?"

  "Okay," Davia said, her voice heavy with disappointment. "I understand that you need to think about all of this. The thing is, Vanley, you don't have to worry about me. I promise, if I know what Anita's secret is I can keep quiet. I mean, unless you want me to say something."

  Vanley shook his head. "Let's sleep on it; pray about it. Okay?"

  "Okay." Davia said brightly. "Do you want us to actually eat?"

  Vanley had no appetite but he nodded. "Sure. Why not?"

  Chapter Thirteen

  Vanley had taken too long to leave the university campus after his lunch with Davia, and Pastor Peterson had cornered him and begged him to do the service on Sabbath. The main speaker had cancelled at the last minute, so Pastor Peterson thought of asking Vanley to do the service as soon as he saw him.

  "It's a sign that you are supposed to do it," he had said to Vanley.

  Vanley had wanted to protest, but he had no appointment to speak elsewhere so he nodded in agreement.

  So, here he was in front of the five hundred congregants. Most of them were students and workers but there were a few community people scattered throughout the congregation. He saw his sister, Arnella, sitting beside his cousin, Micah, and Micah’s fiancée, Charlene. Just behind them were Davia and his cousin, Jessica; behind them were his uncle and his aunt.

  His eyes then roved down to the middle of the congregation to a lady in black, Anita. His eyes always found her. He imagined that he would be able to pick her out of a crowd of a million persons. She was staring straight at him, and his heart started to race.

  Then he remembered the secrets and those he had yet to uncover and waited for the abhorrence to kick in—it didn't. So, she was a former lesbian who had a son. That wasn't enough to make him stop loving her.

  He had been praying about this latest development, pouring out his heart to the Lord, and then it hit him: he wasn't really asking God for anything in particular. He was just rambling on and on to God about his problems without seeking a solution from God. Then it came to him: he remembered his conversation with the guys while they were on their way to camp. "Prayer was asking and receiving." He knew what his sermon topic was going to be: "Prayer. Is There Anything Too Hard For God To Do."

  He straightened his tie and glanced in Anita's direction again. She was listening intently as the song of meditation was being sung.

  When it was his time to speak, he got up. This was his second time in front of the university church. He had been nervous that first time, but he had hidden it well. This time he didn't feel nervy at all.

  "Brethren," he looked over the congregation, "have you ever stopped to think about prayer and what it really is? I don't mean giving it a cursory thought. I mean really contemplating what it is, as the Bible defines it. Indeed, a non-praying Christian is a Christian without power."

  "We might even recite a well- rehearsed line or two. One comes to mind, 'For health and strength and daily food, we give thee thanks, oh Lord, amen.' Is that prayer, or is that a little recital that we do before we eat? When we do these little rituals or recitals, do we really pray? What is prayer?"

  The congregation was listening to him intently. He could see even Pastor Peterson straightening up in his seat. This very topic had been a source of discussion among them over the years.

  "Recently, I was reminded by my uncle," he looked in Bancroft's direction, "that I am a praying man. You see, for years I have wanted something badly. So badly in fact that I spent quite a while praying about it, and when I say a while, I am talking about years. I am a fan of the book of James in the Bible. It is actually my favorite book of the Bible. James deals a lot with prayer. In James 4:2-3, it says, to paraphrase, 'We have not because we ask not,' and in verse 3 it says 'Ye ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may consume it upon your lusts.'"

  Bancroft was smiling, a pleased smile. No doubt, his uncle would interpret this sermon as an admission that he, Vanley, was asking amiss for Anita to marry him.

  He soldiered on. "Why do we pray? We pray because God commands us to pray, and pray without ceasing. We pray because prayer is the way out of trouble, the cure for all worry and anxious care. We pray because prayer is the only unanswerable argument against skepticism, unbelief, modernism, and infidelity. We pray because Jesus Christ said that men ought to pray.

  "'And all things whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing ye shall receive.' Prayer is asking. Have you ever prayed and prayed and yet you have not asked God for anything. So, if you haven't asked, how do you expect to get an answer? What do you expect to receive? You will not get anything accomplished if you quote poetry to God, or repeat aimless rituals.

  "Back to James' text. Christians have not, because they ask not, and they have not because they ask amiss. The Scripture says that it is not fighting, or warring, or desiring, or worrying but by asking that we get things from God.

  "The word for prayer, as used in the New Testament, is translated 'ask.' Prayer is not praise, adoration, meditation, nor confession, it is simply asking. Receiving is the answer."

  He looked at Anita when he said this; he was preaching about himself. He went through the rest of the sermon and when he sat down, he realized, in a flash of clarity, that his prayers about Anita were answered a long time ago. He just needed to trust God and not his own human logic or emotions.

  *****

  "You have to come to dinner with us today, Vanley." Bancroft greeted him at the door. "That was a lovely sermon, by the way. Can I get the script for your sermon; I need to run over some of those texts that you used?"

  Vanley smiled. "Sure."

  His aunt hugged him tightly, obstructing the people around her as she squeezed him. "I love you."

  "I love you too, Aunt Celeste," he said sheepishly. She squeezed his cheeks and moved on. The disadvantage of being a pastor among family, he thought as several persons were looking at their interaction and smiling. To his aunt, he would always be her little nephew, Vanley.

  "You made a good point," Arnella said, frowning when she came up to him. "You have got to talk to me about this some more. Like, can I ask God for somebody to disappear, like Tracy Carr? Is that asking amiss?"

  Vanley squeezed his sister's hand. "The Lord answers prayers according to his will. Asking for Tracy to disappear…I don't know if that is his will. Maybe you should be asking the Lord to do good to those that persecute you."

  Arnella pinched him. "Didn't David in the Bible pray about his enemies? And he had a lot."

  Alric, who was p
atiently waiting behind Arnella, shook his hand and hugged Arnella around her neck. "She is a work in progress, Vanley."

  Vanley laughed. "I know. I know."

  When they moved on and the line began to thin out, he found himself shaking Anita's hand.

  She had on black gloves and a black and white hat that partially obscured her face.

  "That was a beautiful sermon, Vanley." Anita gave him one of her serene smiles. It didn't quite reach her eyes though. Her expression was closed off to him. He wanted to shake her and tell her that he knew some of her secrets and he wasn't phased one bit. He was not that fickle.

  He was snapped out of that urge when Davia, wearing a bright yellow dress, waved to him from the end of the line. She looked bright and happy, the light to Anita's dark. He felt bad about the comparison and squeezed Anita's hand in his. "It was a sermon for me as well."

  "I figured that out," Anita said. "And it was fodder for thought. Prayer is asking. I'll remember that the next time I'm tempted to quote poetry to God."

  When she walked away, he watched her but was almost overwhelmed when Davia walked up to him and hugged him, redirecting his attention to her.

  "Thank you for inviting me to lunch with you at your uncle's house."

  Vanley nodded completely confused. Then he looked up and saw his uncle watching him, a twinkle in his eye. He was set up. He looked down at Davia. She looked so happy he didn't mind really.

  *****

  When he arrived at his uncle's house, he immediately recognized what his crafty uncle had done. He had also invited Anita, and when he drove up and got out of the car with Davia, the three of them stood in the driveway looking at each other.

  Davia was the first to break the frozen tableau. "Hello Anita."

  Anita looked at Davia as if she barely registered that she was there and nodded formally.

  "Hello, Davia and Vanley." She smiled at them, a smile stiff and forced. "I guess we are all having lunch together."

  "I guess so." Vanley inclined his head.

  Nobody moved.

  Davia cleared her throat and crossed her arms. She was not going to excuse herself from this trio like a dutiful little girl and watch as Anita ensnared Vanley with whatever it is she did to ensnare him.

  An idea came to her head. What if she mentioned the word Anton and see Anita's reaction. Vanley was still tiptoeing around her, trying to spare her feelings and treat her with kid's gloves. Maybe she should stir the waters a bit.

  "When last have you seen our friend Anton?" Davia asked, turning to Vanley. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Anita stiffened.

  Anita was visibly uncomfortable. Vanley noticed it as well because he was also watching her.

  Anita swallowed. "Well, I guess I will see you two inside."

  Davia nodded and then looked at Vanley, a spark of mischief in her eyes. "See what I did there? See how she reacted to the name. It's as if she panicked. You see how she got all still and looked spooked?"

  "Davia," Vanley sighed, "it could be nothing."

  "It could also mean that she has something big to hide." Davia couldn't contain her excitement. "Have you thought about us going to that address on the letter and finding out who Anton is?"

  That's all he had thought about for the last two days; that and his sermon about prayer. He had prayed about it, and while he hadn't gotten a booming voice from heaven saying, go to Kingston, he had this unquenchable urge to. He was actually fretting about what he would find.

  "What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked Davia.

  "Nothing. Boring Sunday," Davia said.

  "Pick you up at eight," Vanley said, making up his mind for once on the spur of the moment. "Road trip to Kingston."

  "Cool." Davia laughed. "Looking forward to it."

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was going to be a gorgeous day. Vanley could see that there would be clear skies; the sun had just begun to make an appearance over the horizon. The wind was wafting gently through the car windows when he picked up Davia for what he was beginning to think of as 'the mission to uncover the rest of the secret'.

  Davia was bristling with excitement, but all Vanley could think of was that he had cancelled officiating in a wedding and a funeral today. It was a good thing that his associate pastor had been able to fill in and had not had any previous engagements. This whole secret thing was even messing with his schedule. He hoped that this would be the end of the road for the secret and then he could seriously get a move on with his life, whatever that move would involve.

  "Did you see how Anita was at the lunch yesterday?" Davia asked. "She was extremely quiet and reserved. Like just the very mention of the name Anton had her in this huge panic."

  Vanley had seen that as well and thought it odd. Why would Anita be so shaken up over the name? It was a fairly common name. Her response was unusual and suspicious and had prompted him to again take up his detective endeavors at a time when he was of two minds about it.

  "You know, Davia," he said out loud, "our curiosity may get us nowhere."

  "Then," Davia laughed, "at least we would have spent the day together. It's fun. I like this."

  She would, Vanley thought. However, a little protective part of him was actually anxious on behalf of Anita and what this revelation would mean for her closely guarded secret, but another part of him was bursting to know what it was.

  Throughout the journey into Kingston, he battled a faint unease, which was only offset by Davia's constant chatter and boundless energy. She was actually making the journey into Kingston for the first time in her life.

  He only found out when they reached the highway and he was able to drive faster than normal on the roads.

  "I can't believe you can go this fast." Davia squealed.

  "Haven't you ever been on the highway before?" Vanley looked at her curiously.

  "No," Davia said eagerly. "I have never been to Kingston."

  "Fascinating." Vanley looked at her wide-eyed, and laughed. "I can't believe it."

  "Believe it." Davia grinned. "The furthest I've ever been is Mandeville, and even then, only rarely."

  "Well," Vanley grinned, "let's make it a tour day. I'll show you around the capital after we visit the Parks in Cherry Gardens."

  Davia nodded. She was so happy for the adventure to escape from the hills, if only for a day. She had forgotten that they were going to unravel a mystery.

  When they drove into Cherry Gardens, looking for the address on the paper, it suddenly occurred to Davia that they were going to show up at the couple's house without a story. They were strangers to these two people. They may not want to give them any information or might even slam the door in their faces.

  "Vanley, what are we going to tell them?" she asked. I mean these people don't know us. Maybe we should have a story."

  Vanley frowned. "A story? What do you mean?"

  "Like, why we are looking for Anton Parks," Davia said. "What kind of detectives are we?"

  Vanley grinned. "First, we need to know who Anton Parks is. I think the best thing to do is to ask them who he is to them."

  "But they might not want to talk to us," Davia said. "I can't believe we failed before we began. Suppose they contact Anita and tell her that we've been snooping around. I'd lose my job. I love my job."

  Vanley nodded slowly. "That's a possibility; want us to go back home?"

  Davia weighed the thought in her mind and then glanced on the paper she had been clutching. The address was 1026 Norbrook Drive. They were actually in front of number 1028.

  "There is 1026." She pointed to a gate that was bordered by high walls. They couldn't see much of the house. The walls were done in a cream cut-stone design and the gate was a tall black wrought iron structure.

  "Wow! These people aren't poor," Davia said.

  Vanley looked at her incredulously and slowed down in front of 1026. "Haven't you seen the neighborhood so far? I think that is a little bit of stating the obvious. So what's it to be?" Vanle
y asked. "Should we turn back and go touring the other parts of Kingston? Maybe grab a bite to eat. Forget about this Anton person?"

  "Ahm," Davia shuffled the paper in her hand. "Maybe I could stay in the car and hide."

  Vanley laughed. "Really. I can't believe that you have gotten cold feet."

  "I am just a wannabe detective," Davia said, "but I am a real life secretary and I need my job."

  "Okay," Vanley said. "Stay in the car. I am going to press the buzzer and see what happens."

  When he walked toward the imposing gate, he felt a touch of nervousness, like Davia. It was all good and well to fantasize about being a detective but it was another thing to actually do it.

  He pressed the round white button that was poised above a speaker box.

  A pleasant voice came over the speaker. "Who is it?"

  Vanley cleared his throat, "I am Pastor Vanley Bancroft from Bramble in Malvern. I am just here to speak to Maud Parks or Felix Parks regarding one Anton Parks."

  There was a long silence and then a clearing of the throat. "Okay. Come on in."

  The gate opened slowly and Vanley walked back to the car.

  "I can't believe it," he said faintly. "They know Anton Parks. I am going in."

  Davia looked at him, feeling the anticipation in the air.

  When he drove onto the cobblestone driveway past a mini waterfall and coy pond at the front of the yard, he remembered that he had snorted at Davia when she said that these people were rich, but he was just now appreciating how rich. They had manicured gardens and a lovely, imposing Mediterranean style house.

  When he and Davia exited the car, Davia whispered, "Even the air smells rich."

  Vanley smiled nervously. An older lady with her hair in a topknot was standing at the door in what looked like an African tribal dress. She had a medium brown complexion. She had plucked her eyebrows and penciled it in a very thick line that gave her face the illusion of being in a permanent frown.