Brent had to smile. “Not going to tell me, huh?”
Joshua sidestepped the question and continued. “Death isn’t a fun event, even if it’s immediate and painless. My apostle, Paul, said for you to ‘keep your mind on things above.’ It’s good advice. For when that day comes when you lay your body down—whether it’s drawn out and painful or short and painless—it is the end reward that counts.
“I will one day take away all pain and wipe away every tear, but that time is not yet.
“Trust my next statement. Hear me. How you walk through the door to Heaven isn’t important. Only that you were welcomed in when you got there.”
Brent and Joshua walked silently for a few minutes, then Brent said, “I accept all of that. I do. I accept that the pain is irrelevant after getting to Heaven, but I’m still stuck on why. Your answer to my why. I want to know why you chose the timing and why you chose a broken leg to bring about my mamaw’s death.”
Joshua stopped and turned. “Brent, I’m still not going to tell you her story. One day, she will tell you all of that, but I will say this: her death will save a life.”
Joshua extended his hand. Brent realized that their conversation had just come to a close. He looked into the man’s smiling face and placed his hand into that of his Savior’s.
“I love you, Brent. Never doubt it.”
“I love you, too…Jesus.”
As Brent took his final steps off the mountain, he saw that his dad was about the business of getting the car packed. The day ahead would see the end of an era in his life. And for the first time since setting foot on the property, he was finally at peace.
Ash he approached his parents’ car, he heard the thump of suitcases landing in the trunk. His dad appeared from the rear of the vehicle and gave Brent a look that definitely spoke of irritation.
“Sorry, Dad. Didn’t mean for the burden to fall completely on you. Is there more?”
“Plenty.”
The two men walked the steps to the front porch.
“Mind telling me what you were doing?”
“I needed to un-grieve God.”
THE CAR WAS packed, and everyone took one last walk through the old home, securing into each mind’s eye memories that would have to last for the rest of their lives.
The back and side doors were now locked, and the four members of the Lawton family exited out onto the porch. There were no more tears—just a somberness that followed them into the open air.
Keith Lawton locked the front door one last time and they walked down the steps.
Brent heard Lydia whisper, “Goodbye, Green Gables.” A bittersweet warmth spread through him as he reflected on the new and cherished name for a home that would not survive another year.
“I’ll take the house keys down to Joe and Sally,” announced Keith. But no sooner had the words left his mouth than he heard the voice of Joe call out from their left.
“Keith! Sharon!”
The family moved to meet him as he completed his walk up the path from his house.
“I was just about to bring the key to you,” said Brent’s dad with a smile. “No need for you to come all the way down here.”
There was a measure of concern in Joe’s eyes. “The President is about to address the nation. I think all of you are going to want to see this.”
Brent’s dad looked at his watch. So did Brent.
“At 9:00 AM?”
“Reckon it’s got to be pretty important.”
The peace that Brent had felt only thirty minutes earlier was now gone, wiped out by concern over what could be happening that would require the President of the United States to give a morning televised address.
Brent looked over to Lydia. He saw her face harden, her lips purse.
Oh no, Brent thought. No, God…
THE LAWTONS AND Moores sat in the chairs and on the couch of the living room. The air was filled with apprehension. Then the announcer on the TV spoke. “The President of the United States.”
The visage of President George H.W. Bush, sitting behind the Resolute Desk in the oval office, filled the screen.
“In the life of a nation, we’re called upon to define who we are and what we believe. Sometimes these choices are not easy. But today, as President, I ask for your support in a decision I’ve made: to stand up for what’s right and condemn what’s wrong, all in the cause of peace.
“At my direction, elements of the 82nd Airborne Division as well as key units of the United States Air Force are arriving today to take up defensive positions in Saudi Arabia. I took this action to assist the Saudi Arabian Government in the defense of its homeland. No one commits America’s Armed Forces to a dangerous mission lightly, but after unparalleled international consultation and exhausting every alternative, it became necessary to take this action. Let me tell you why…”
Everyone in the living room listened intently, mesmerized by the President’s words. America was moving toward war. And it was going to directly affect one of the members of their family—a young airman of the United States Air Force, Lydia Lawton.
Brent turned to look at her. She sat alone in a chair next to the couch on which their mom and dad sat. Her face was stoic and determined. Brent’s heart grew proud as he saw his sister transform from the sensitive girl who had wept on her mamaw’s bed into a woman accepting what was being laid out before her.
Turning back to the television, he listened as the President wrapped up his address.
“Standing up for our principles will not come easy. It may take time and possibly cost a great deal. But we are asking no more of anyone than of the brave young men and women of our Armed Forces and their families. And I ask that, in the churches around the country, prayers be said for those who are committed to protect and defend America’s interests.
“Standing up for our principles is an American tradition. As it has so many times before, it may take time and tremendous effort, but most of all, it will take unity of purpose. As I’ve witnessed throughout my life in both war and peace, America has never wavered when her purpose is driven by principle. And on this August day, at home and abroad, I know she will do no less.
“Thank you, and God bless the United States of America.”
Uncle Joe clicked off the TV and for a moment everyone sat in silence.
Brent’s eyes drifted back to Lydia. Her eyes met his. She again pursed her lips, and a look of resolve fashioned itself upon her face.
Lydia stood up, took a couple steps toward her uncle, and asked, “May I use your phone, Uncle Joe?”
He closed his eyes momentarily and gave her a single nod.
Everyone in the living room remained silent as the call was placed in the kitchen.
“Sergeant Rucker, it’s Senior Airman Lydia Lawton.”
The family listened to the monologue in the living room, brief pauses of silence indicating another side of the conversation that only Lydia could hear.
“I apologize. There is no phone in the home where we were staying. Yes. I understand. No later than Friday evening. I understand. I will start heading back right away. I will see you tomorrow.”
Lydia hung up the phone. All eyes were on her when she re-entered the living room.
“Well, the first chalk—deployment group—of my squadron has already left for…well, I can’t say right now. But you can certainly guess what country they’ve gone to. I’m in chalk three, which means that I’ll be in the next group to leave. I have to be back at Langley Air Force Base by tomorrow evening for deployment.”
Brent’s mom began to cry. Trying to hold back the flood was a lost cause. His dad got up to walk to Lydia. He approached, obviously wanting to bring her comfort, but she would have none of it.
“Dad, I’m okay. This is what I’ve been trained for. But we need to get on the road right away.”
Within ten minutes, all the goodbyes had been said, Sharon Lawton had emotionally regrouped, and the family was on the road back to Ohio.
&nbs
p; EXCEPT FOR A few more tears from Sharon Lawton, the first half of the trip back to Millsville was uneventful.
Brent spent much of the time just looking out his window, reflecting on all that had happened in his life over the previous four days. The silence of the car and the solitude of his own thoughts did little to quell the immense feeling of loss at the death of Elizabeth Franklin.
There was something inherently wrong about getting to know the girl so intimately, only to have her ripped away from him through death. No funeral. No final words over her. No goodbye.
He had discovered a lot about himself during his trip to Kentucky and what he could only think to call the Otherealm.
He had learned a lesson in humility. Joshua had shown—and made clear—Brent’s inability to control everything in and around his own life. Not to mention the lives of others.
He had learned that there was a plan for every single one of God’s creations.
He had learned that the extremity of the event that sent Christians through the door to Heaven really didn’t matter, because the joy on the other side would be worth any method of transportation that brought them there.
He had learned that even the things that people thought were negative experiences could have been orchestrated by God to nudge them onto correct paths. He knew, now, that the destruction of his car and the delay in finding a job were God-ordained detours to get him where he needed to be for the coming chapters of his life.
The list seemed to go on endlessly.
Despite everything that had happened and everything that he was leaving behind, Brent was actually looking forward to getting home. He wanted to get together with Tara. Life was too much of an unknown to allow piddly concerns to get in the way of a romantic relationship. And he was going to let her know it.
He smiled.
At that moment, Lydia apparently felt that it was time to break the pervasive silence in the car. “Dad, are we halfway home, yet?”
“We’re actually a little past halfway,” he said.
Lydia reached down into a large bag at her feet. She pulled a couple things out of the top of it, laid them aside, then wrestled something big and heavy out.
Brent could tell that she was trying to hide the ‘something’ from him, but he saw it plainly. His eyes grew large and his jaw dropped open.
She reached back into the bag again and withdrew a smaller ‘something.’
Turning to Brent, Lydia handed him two Bibles: a large and very old family Bible and a smaller, black, hard-cover Bible. He looked at his sister in bewilderment as he accepted them.
“Papaw’s and Mamaw’s Bibles.” he said.
Upon hearing the words, Sharon Lawton turned around and looked back at the two of them. Raised eyebrows and a slight smile on her face belied any reprimand that she would have wanted to convey. “Lydia Lawton, what did you do?”
“Well, I couldn’t let just anyone have them. Could I?”
Brent, a big smile on his face, had a question of his own. “Why did you just ask Dad if we were halfway home?”
Lydia grinned. “I figured that the halfway mark was the point of no return. This way, I thought you were more likely to get to keep them.”
Lydia smiled at her mom. The woman’s smile broadened as she shook her head and turned to face the front of the car again.
“Lydia… Thank you.” Brent reached out to give her a hug, which she gladly accepted.
After they withdrew from their embrace, Brent asked, “Dad, as soon as it’s convenient, can you pull the car over and pop the trunk?”
Apparently it had proved convenient right at that moment, because Keith Lawton pulled into the parking lot of a Dollar General store that had been less than a tenth of a mile ahead of them.
Brent got out of the car, lifted the trunk, closed it, and sauntered back to the open door. When he sat back down and closed the door, it was Lydia whose face lit up with a smile. The tears that formed in her eyes told Brent that he had just done the most amazing thing in the world for her.
With the words “I love you,” Brent presented Lydia with one of the pillows from their mamaw’s bed.
Tara was a tear-stained, emotional mess. Brent didn’t know how many tissues the woman had gone through, but there was a pile of them sitting next to her on the couch.
When he finished the story, he sat waiting to hear what she would say when she finally regrouped.
At last, she spoke. “Brent, that was the most remarkable story I have ever heard in my life.” She smiled teasingly and followed with, “Now how much of it was true?”
Brent laughed heartily. “Every word of it.”
She leaned into him. “Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve lived with this for twenty-two years? Haven’t you told anybody else? Lydia? Mom or Dad?”
“No. I’ve wanted to, but I could feel deep within me that I had to wait. And wait. And wait and wait and wait…”
Tara giggled, then fanned herself with her hand. “Whew! Still trying to get past some of the emotion. It’s going to take a while for me to digest everything,” she said. “Especially everything that Joshua told you.”
“Tell me about it. I think I’ve gotten a handle on most of what he told me, but not quite everything.”
“‘Her death will save a life.’ What did Joshua mean by that? Did your mamaw’s death lead to someone else’s life being saved?”
“Not that I’ve been made aware of. I don’t know why he would tell me that, though, if I wasn’t going to be the one to somehow witness it.”
“Well, we both know that God wouldn’t lie. So, if it didn’t happen, could it be that your whole encounter with him was…” She paused, obviously not sure if she should say the words. “…just a dream after all?”
“Trust me,” he responded, “after several years of pondering, that’s the conclusion that I finally came to. Regardless, the lessons learned still had to have come from God.”
Tara stood up and stretched. “Want something to drink?”
“No. I’m okay. Thanks.”
Tara walked into the kitchen and immediately walked back out holding up a piece of paper in her hand. “Remember?”
He recognized it right away. Grocery list.
“Today is grocery day,” he half moaned, definitely not feeling up for a jaunt to the store.
“We can’t do it tomorrow,” she said.
Brent nodded and resigned himself to the task at hand. He stood up and walked to the back door and looked out. Amy was in the backyard on the swing set.
“I’ll call Jenna and tell her that she’s got to come home and supervise the kids,” he said.
“Call the Millers, and let Jamie know that he needs to come home, too.”
“On it.”
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Brent and Tara were walking into the super market.
“What’s on the list that I can find for you? Something that won’t take me all day,” asked Brent with a grin.
Tara pretended to look through the list. Brent already knew what was coming.
“Hmm… Looks like I’m going to have to get everything myself, then,” she said with a lilt in her voice and playful smile.
“Saw that coming from a million miles away.”
“Good eyesight! How about we start over in the pharmacy.”
In the cold and allergy aisle, they searched for some ‘just-in-case’ medications for the children, especially Amy. Finding them and putting them into the cart, they started to make their way into another aisle when they heard someone crying.
Brent and Tara looked at each other. Leaving the cart where it stood, they walked another aisle over and found a girl sitting on the floor, her knees pulled tightly to her chest. Her shoulders were quaking.
Tara ran over to her and crouched beside her. “Hey, hey,” she said softly. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Brent walked to the other side and also crouched. She was obviously a teenager. Dark brown hair fell to
the sides of her face, hiding it from view.
She wasn’t saying anything.
“Sweetheart,” Tara tried again. “Talk to me. It’s okay. What’s wrong?”
“N-n-nothing,” she stammered. “I-I’ll be okay.”
“Obviously, that’s not the way you’re seeing things. Can you tell me what it is?”
Brent noticed the aisle location in which the girl sat. “Tara?”
She looked up at him.
He tilted his head in the direction of the shelves.
A glance at the items on display, and compassion filled Tara’s eyes. She placed an arm around the girl. Softly, she asked, “Do you think you might be pregnant?”
“I…” Her crying began to intensify, and she dropped her forehead to her knees. “I know that I am.”
“Then, Sweetie, why are you in this aisle? Maybe taking a test will actually show differently.”
“No… It won’t. I want it to, but it won’t.” Her voice trembled and broke. “I’ve already done five.” Another series of sobs spilled forth from the girl, muffled by her knees and hair.
Tears filled Tara’s eyes, and Brent closed his for a moment.
“It’s going to be okay,” Brent assured. “Trust me. What’s your name?”
At last, the teen looked up, and Brent’s mind couldn’t comprehend what he saw.
“My name’s Elizabeth.”
Even if she had tried to remember, she wouldn’t have been able to put an exact date on when she had first crossed the line. But every once in a while, the event would flash back.
She could remember the feeling of her heart hammering in her chest, the intensity of the pulse in her neck. She had asked one last Should I do it? before clicking the “Send” button.
At that moment, it had become forever too late to get it back.
Behind the Darkness Page 29
