The Order of the Redeemed

by Warren Cain

  Ron noticed his two-year-old sitting in the middle of the floor playing with the trash that littered the floor.

  How did we live like this? I’m so sorry, kids . . . Nancy, I . . . I didn’t realize it was this bad.

  The more the baby cried, the more he could feel Nancy’s anxiety growing.

  I can’t do this anymore, Ron. I can’t take it. Neither can they.

  Ron sensed she had been entertaining the thought of leaving for some time. Suddenly the door opened.

  Oh, my God. He looks trashed.

  Even Ron was surprised at how terrible he looked. He had never taken a good look at how bad he had become at this, his lowest point. It was obvious from the way he looked he rarely used a mirror at this point in his life.

  I didn’t realize I had sunk that low. He felt a sense of fear growing in Nancy. She’s terrified of me.

  Ron felt a deep sense of shame as the emotion struck him. She almost let him go back to the bedroom without asking about the milk and diapers because she was so afraid of his possible reaction.

  “Ron, where are the diapers and milk?” He heard her force the words out.

  He couldn’t believe the look on his face. It was obvious it was the furthest thing from his mind.

  I can’t believe the drugs were more important than the kids.

  “Oh, Ron. Did you buy more drugs? How are we going to buy food and pay the rent? We have to stop living like this.”

  “Are you blaming me for this? You could do something once in a while, too. Why don’t you get the damn milk?”

  Please don’t make me watch the rest of this, pleaded Ron, hoping someone was listening.

  He had played this whole scene over in his mind a hundred times, but this was the first time he was able to see it from Nancy’s perspective.

  “It has to stop, Ron. We can’t live like this. The kids can’t live like this.”

  Nancy was forcing herself to be strong. He could feel how badly she wanted to get through to him. To change him so these children would have a dad. Not one that wanted to be left alone to his drugs, but one that would tuck them in at night after reading them a story. One who would take them out in the yard and throw the ball around. She was trying to give him his last chance to be a good dad.

  “GET OUT OF MY WAY!” He saw himself push her as if to say he didn’t want or deserve that chance.

  The baby! Ron heard Nancy’s mind scream as she dropped the baby on her way to the floor.

  “We sure screwed that up, didn’t we?”

  Ron looked up to see an evil image of himself smiling in the mirror.

  Chapter 40

  “Morning, Kirk,” said Larry with a smile. “Or should I say good afternoon.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Five thirty. You slept right through lunch. I thought you needed your sleep more than you needed food.”

  “Good call, Larry. I was beat.”

  “I’ve got some people downstairs I would like for you to meet. You may want to change into your regular clothes.”

  “Oh, sure,” responded Kirk, suddenly realizing he was in an old pair of sweats and a T-shirt he used as pajamas. “I’ll be right back.”

  Kirk hurried up the stairs and changed into more presentable clothing.

  “I’m ready,” announced Kirk as he burst back into the kitchen.

  “That was fast.”

  “Always have been fast at getting ready, Larry. I think I should attribute most of that to the fact I rarely give much thought to how I look.”

  Larry seemed amused by the comment.

  As they walked down the steps, Kirk could hear people talking below. The voices sounded almost festive.

  “Attention everyone,” announced Larry, trying to calm the group of five who were sitting around the table. “I would like for you to meet one of the newest members of the Order, Kirk Murphy. Kirk, I will let everyone introduce themselves because I can’t remember all of their names.”

  Everyone sitting at the table gave Kirk a warm smile.

  “Hello, Kirk. Garrett Lavor,” declared a middle-aged man sitting at the head of the table.

  I think I caught a little bit of an accent. Maybe Minnesota, thought Kirk.

  “From the look on your face I can tell Larry failed to explain why we’re here. Now try to forgive him, he does a good job but he’s incredibly underpaid.”

  This comment seemed to amuse the others sitting at the table.

  “You’re not sure why we’re here, let me explain. The initiation you recently underwent is performed at this location once a year on the same date. Every five years we are invited back to celebrate our redemption and help you on the path to yours. Kind of a support group. We sit around and compare guilt. Let each other know we’re not alone. Not to make anyone stand out, just so we recognize our humanity. We recognize that none of us have the right to judge the others. We all sinned. We all are forgiven.”

  Garrett cocked his head back and scratched his chin nervously. His large eyes darted across both sides of the table as though he were making sure everyone was paying attention and there might be trouble if someone wasn’t.

  “I sold drugs, Kirk. This may not sound so bad to some of you, but listen up. I had a good business going. Kind of a regional man with lots of people under me, a wholesaler. One day I got this call from my sister. Seems her teenage daughter overdosed on crack. I swore to my sister I would find out who sold it to her and make ’em pay. To make a long story short, it was me. They lived outta state, but one of my people branched out into their state. I sold it to him. He sold it to my niece. I killed her. Got me to thinking about the other people I sold to. How many died I didn’t even think about?”

  Garrett’s words seemed as though they came from a man who would be tortured with guilt, but his face showed a different story . . . one that said, “I screwed up, but I can’t torture myself forever.”

  “This is my tenth anniversary of my redemption and I hope to see you in five years,” he said, pointing his finger at Kirk. “You’ll make it, pal.”

  “Linda Manchester. This is my fifth anniversary,” said the woman to Garrett’s left.

  Kirk estimated her to be about thirty years old. She was an attractive woman with dark hair. Her eyes had the same look of cleanness he had seen in Larry’s. Linda pushed herself away from the table to reveal she was sitting in a wheelchair. A blanket covered her legs.

  “Nice to meet you,” said Linda, holding her hand out. She gave Kirk a look that said, “I know.”

  “Nice to meet you,” said Kirk not knowing what look he was supposed to give back.

  “I used to enjoy drinking. A lot,” said Linda. “What would it hurt? I asked myself. I never drank at work. Sure, I might come in with a hangover, but I was usually over it by ten in the morning. Sometimes the girls I worked with would go out after work and have a few drinks. Pretty harmless. My husband, Brad, worked second shift. I came home after a few drinks with the girls. Brad went to work, leaving me with our eighteen-month-old boy, Jeromy. Wouldn’t you know it? We were out of liquor at home. What did I do? What else could I do? I packed up Jeromy and headed to the liquor store. We never made it. We crashed into a power pole. I put Jeromy into his car seat but apparently I was too wasted to make sure the belt clicked. He didn’t make it, and neither did my legs or my marriage. My husband was always aggravated by my drinking and tried to talk me into quitting, but the death of our son was more than our marriage could stand.”

  That explains the look she gave me, thought Kirk, realizing the similarity of their situations.

  Linda looked to her left at the woman sitting next to her as if to say, “Your turn.”

  “Pat Layne,” said the elderly lady impatiently, as though she had somewhere to be. “This is my thirty-fifth anniversary.” The expression on her face changed from impatien
t to a look of pride at the amount of time she had been in the Order. “Kirk, it’s nice to meet you,” she said, giving Kirk a warm smile. “This is my seventh meeting, eight including my initiation. I suppose by now you realize you’re not alone. We’ve all strayed at one time or another. For whatever reason you’re here, it’s time to move on, Kirk.”

  I wonder what this sweet old lady did. I would have expected her to be home baking cookies for the grandkids. Guess she must have endured a lot of guilt to have earned a place in this organization. Everyone else so far has.

  Pat looked at the gentleman sitting next to her. “I’m done,” she said plainly.

  Guess I’m not going to find out what she did. Doesn’t seem like whatever she did almost forty years ago matters much in her life at the present. Gives me a little hope I’ll get past this. Might hit her up later about how long it was before she stopped feeling guilty.

  “Jim Richardson,” said the short man to Pat’s left. “Had an uncle who had quite a collection of pornographic material. He allowed me to view almost anything at anytime. I was young when I first started hanging out with him. Mom thought it was okay because he was my dad’s brother. Looking back, I suppose he had a problem also. You wouldn’t believe how bad porn will screw up your mind. It’s as much of an addiction as any drug you can think of. All I thought about all the time was sex and how I could either get it or find a place that sold porn so I could at least watch it. When it was all said and done, I estimate I wasted fifteen years on it. And I mean wasted,” he said, emphasizing the way he felt about his previous life. “Hours I spent in front of the television and porn shops feeding my mind the material it craved. Money and time down the drain.” Jim paused. “Funny, the more I searched for material, the more I craved a variety of sexual material. It’s not too far from porn that most of us would consider ‘normal’ to child pornography. Just got to get in with the wrong people. Once the thought comes into your mind the fantasies start. I think it’s the same with any sin or addiction. It starts so small you don’t even notice it’s there. Then without any conscious consent it’s grown into something horrible. I used to be a child molester.” Jim almost blurted it out as though he meant to ease into it a little easier, but there was no way to let it out without shocking everyone.

  A sick feeling came to Kirk at the thought of this man molesting children.

  No way! He doesn’t deserve to be forgiven. The thought came to Kirk instinctively. He had never stood before someone he knew had committed such a horrendous deed. Such a lack of morality. He heard Jim’s story, start to finish, and the fact he started at a young age viewing porn. Kirk knew there were a lot of psychological factors involved in his circumstances. Jim probably couldn’t understand, but when Kirk heard the words in his own mind, “He doesn’t deserve to be forgiven,” he understood how people must feel about him.

  Perspective, he thought. How many people said those words about me?

  His life came to a point that was out of control. One missed step, he thought to himself. When did I have the choice to stop it?

  “I’m clean now, but it took so long to become that way. I suppose it’s the nature of addictions. It takes a long time to be able to overcome the addiction and even longer before your mind stops screaming for it. I’ve been clean for ten years now, and I make sure to steer clear of anything that might lead me back to my addiction,” said Jim. “There is hope for you, Kirk. Do what the Order asks of you to the best of your ability. There is redemption for you.” Jim smiled as he thought back to some point when he first felt redeemed. Pat reached over and gently squeezed Jim’s hand.

  Kirk felt at home among these five strangers. He had given up long ago on finding anyone to talk to that understood him, and now he was in a room filled with people who had been through situations as bad or possibly worse than his own.

  “Very well,” said Larry after an uncomfortable pause. “I’m glad to see all of you made it back for your anniversaries. Feel free to roam around the town.” Larry turned and walked up the stairs leaving the five of them alone.

  “Why don’t we take that walk around town, Kirk?” asked Linda.

  “I’ve seen the whole town,” Kirk replied. “There really isn’t that much to see.”

  “I know,” said Linda, sounding a little aggravated. “But the weather’s nice and we should be enjoying it. Now, grab my wheelchair and push me out.”

  “How can I say no to that?” said Kirk, trying to lighten the mood.

  Linda smiled at the comment.

  “You would think the Order would be ADA compliant,” Linda said trying to match Kirk’s humor as he pulled her up the steps. “It’s a good thing to help someone anytime you can,” Linda said in a more serious tone. “It’s also good to know when it’s time to let someone help you.”

  I don’t think I would make it, thought Kirk. I’ve never been good at asking for help, even when I knew I needed it.

  “So where are you from?” inquired Linda, trying to pull some conversation out of him.

  “A small town in Missouri. I live in Washington now,” replied Kirk, realizing he had not been much on conversation. “How about you?”

  “Lake View, North Dakota. Sort of a small town. I never lived anywhere else. I guess I was born with roots. Scared me to even leave long enough to come here to Indemnity the first time.”

  Kirk opened the front door of the house. The town was filled with people. Music was coming from a stage set up on the south end of High View Road and all the way down the street to the north lights that were blinking where vendors sold refreshments and carnival-type games were being played.

  Where the hell did all these people come from? There must be five hundred or more.

  “You didn’t think only four of us were having our anniversary, did you?”

  “I didn’t consider everyone with an anniversary would show up.”

  “The four of us were asked by Mr. Kincaid to meet with you. I suppose each one for a different reason. I was probably chosen because of our similar situations.”

  “I was thinking that might be the case.”

  “This is a celebration for those of us who have been redeemed, Kirk. We made it through our trials, and now we celebrate our freedom from guilt. I know it’s tough for you to feel like celebrating now, but in five years when you come back here—and you will come back—you will see this celebration in a different way than you see it now. It will be better, Kirk. By the time you’re done with all you need to do, you will know who you are. You will understand what things you need to do to make yourself happy.”

  Kirk walked by a man who tried to encourage him to throw three darts and win a prize. Kirk smiled. “No, thanks.”

  “Before I was introduced to the Order,” Linda continued, “I was focused on alcohol. I thought I needed it, after a hard day at work, the kid was too fussy, it was my day off, or whatever the excuse of the day was. You know when I was a kid I used to have goals and dreams. I was a good runner. I had a good chance at running in the Olympics. I had some talent, but I worked hard for every medal I earned. It made me feel,” Linda paused, trying to use the right word, “it made me feel alive. That was it . . . alive. The dreams came to a halt for me. I fell in love and married young. We had a child when I was twenty. I guess that was when I thought I was supposed to stop my life to raise the kid and be a wife. We had a decent marriage, or at least I thought everything was okay. When our marriage was almost over, my husband told me that was one of the things he used to love about me—the way I dreamed about something and then did it. I didn’t realize I could still have my own goals and be a good wife and mother. Somewhere along the way my dreams were gone and alcohol took its place. Do you have any dreams, Kirk?”

  “Not really. I haven’t had much of a desire since the accident.”

  “You need dreams, Kirk. Achievable dreams with goals that are hard—not impossible, but h
ard. That’s what life is about. God doesn’t want us moping around feeling sorry for ourselves when we screw up. He wants us to push ourselves, use all the gifts and talent he’s given us and put it into some project we enjoy. That’s our way of glorifying him. We need to push ourselves to our limits and remember that our accomplishments are for his glory. I used to let the past weigh me down. Now life is so good. I’ve never felt this satisfied.”

  Wow. She’s got it figured out. I hope I can make it to that point someday. What she’s saying makes a lot of sense.

  Kirk looked up and found he had pushed Linda to the edge of town, past the lights and the noise. He was enjoying listening to her so much he barely noticed where they were.

  “Guess we better turn and go back,” suggested Kirk.

  “Let’s stay here for a little while . . . it’s so peaceful. I just want to look at the stars.” She looked up at Kirk, her blue eyes looking quizzically at him as she brushed her long black hair out of her face.

  I think she wants to spend a little time with just me away from the crowd.

  “That sounds wonderful,” Kirk said, looking at her with a smile.

  Linda turned her head upward with a gleam in her eyes, trying to bite her top lip to hold back the expression she was afraid would give away how happy she was that he wanted to stay out here also.

  “It is peaceful out here,” said Kirk, realizing he had not been this much into a conversation in years. Linda was so full of life, and she was the type of person that made you feel like she had answers. She didn’t pretend to have all of them, but the ones she did have she seemed sure of.

  Kirk pushed her next to a large flat rock at the side of the road.

  “Think of a goal you would like to achieve, Kirk.”

  Kirk thought hard. “I don’t know.”

  “Come on. You’ve thought of something in the past that might be fun to try.”

  Kirk laughed at the thought that came to his mind.

  “What? What did you think of?” asked Linda, realizing he had thought of something he wanted to do by the look on his face.