Chapter Forty - Lisa
The memory of my wedding day is burned into my heart like a white-hot flame; a thing to be treasured forever. You might think everything that happened at Cadron Pool that morning would have eclipsed the whole day, but somehow that’s not the way it felt. Instead it cast a bright shadow of holiness onto everything we said or did, like something you’d hear about in a song or in a beautiful fairy tale. As for me, God had already given me the sweetest gift I ever dared wish for when Cody climbed up out of that water whole and healthy again. After that, how could it help but be the happiest day of my life?
We found some white wooden lawn chairs to set up in the living room after pushing all the furniture out of the way, and Miss Josie found some white and blue ribbon to decorate with. It wasn’t as fancy as some people have it, but to me it was everything I could have wished for.
I had a bouquet of white roses, and when I walked down that aisle to meet my beloved, even Jenny cried.
Halfway through, instead of lighting a candle, Cody surprised me by picking up a golden cup and holding it out to me.
“Will you drink with me, Princess?” he asked, with one of his little half-smiles. It hadn’t been in the plans, but I knew immediately what he was talking about. So I smiled back and nodded before taking a sip. I didn’t really think Tristan and Isolde had shared a cup of ginger ale punch, true, but I loved the symbolism, especially when I knew Cody understood it every bit as much as I did.
I think to be bonded with him at last in that way as in all others was one of the sweetest moments of my life, and it wasn’t till then that I realized I was crying. But tears can be sweet sometimes, and there was no fear or shame in them.
He gently kissed me, and then it was done. I was reminded of that first kiss we shared at the fall dance in seventh grade, just as sweet in memory as this one was in reality.
“Now you have all there is of me,” he said solemnly, and I smiled through what was left of my tears.
When the ceremony was over, Marcus and Cyrus played Paul Brandt’s version of I Do, and we danced while everybody watched. I cried a little bit at that, too, because I don’t think there’s any song in the world more fitting for me and Cody. Then finally we ate brisket and cake and drank punch.
There wasn’t time for us to go anywhere else before he had to leave, so we’d already decided to take our honeymoon when he got back home in August. He asked me where I wanted to go, and I promptly told him I didn’t care as long as it wasn’t Alaska or New Mexico. He laughed, and when he suggested Hawaii I was reminded for a second of that dream I had on the night when he first told me about the Curse. Maybe it was about to come true after all. I couldn’t wait to see how it ended.
But all too soon it was time to put my daydreams away and let him go back to Alaska, to wait out the long seven months without him.
Just before he left, we drove the few miles to Autograph Rock, where we solemnly carved our names in stone below Blake and Josie McGrath.
“Love and peace,” he murmured under his breath, in a voice so low I almost couldn’t hear him.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, but he only smiled a little.
“Nothing, darlin’. Just thinking about something Daddy used to say, that’s all,” he said.
When we got back to Goliad, Miss Josie was standing on the porch waiting for us.
“I thought y’all would never get back! Look what came today!” she cried, holding out an envelope. Cody took it, and after reading the short note inside, he started to laugh.
“What’s so wonderful?” I asked, confused, and Cody swept me up for a tight hug before he answered.
“This is what,” he said, showing me the note.
Dear Cody and Lisa,
Congratulations on getting married. May God richly bless you both. In the meantime, please accept this as a token of our love and appreciation for all you’ve done in the fight against evil.
It was signed by John, Sarah, and Matthieu Doucet, and attached to the bottom of the note with a paperclip was a check for fifty thousand dollars. I almost fainted.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” Cody asked, bringing me back to reality.
“What?” I asked.
“It means I’m not going anywhere, darlin’. Unpack that bag and tear up my ticket, cause I’m home for good,” he said.
I did cry, then, but it was all I could do not to laugh at the same time. Sometimes things keep getting better and better until you almost can’t believe they’re real, but they are.
So we settled into the bunkhouse together, and for several weeks I redecorated, and repainted, and in the end I don’t think I flatter myself too much when I say the place looked a hundred times better than it did when it was only a bachelor pad for a young buck with no sense of style at all. I love Cody to death, but he was and is a cowboy to the bitter end, and however much I love him I really didn’t feel like living for the rest of my life in a house decked out in nothing but cowhide and bearskin.
My days were full and mostly happy, and if there was a current of leftover sadness underneath, well, I’ve come to believe that life is like that, sometimes. You may not always get everything you want, but I think you do always get what you need.
Spring came, with its showery days and green grass, when the whole world seems new. The pastures were full of bluebonnets as far as the eye could see, just like Cody had told me they would be. For a while I painted to my heart’s content, trying to capture a little bit of all that fleeting beauty. I felt like I’d finally come home, at long last, and maybe even to have some of that pale and nourishing dirt in my own blood, just like Cody did. Blake McGrath’s vision of a refuge for the hurting and a place of peace had come true for me, too.
The Mustangs started playing gigs again as soon as Marcus was up to it, and in March Cody surprised me by writing a song for me. The first time I ever had the slightest notion he was working on such a thing was the day when he first sang it, for a small crowd at Sufficient Grounds in Tyler, my favorite spot out of all the places they’d ever played. The patrons laughed and cheered when he stepped offstage to kiss me afterward, and even though it was kind of embarrassing to be made such a spectacle, I wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Whenever I thought I loved him as much as humanly possible, he always managed to top it.
And then a few days ago I had a dream of my own, for the first and only time in my life, I think. It’s not the one I asked for, to be sure, but maybe it’s the one I needed to see.
I see, in my mind’s eye, a boy of sixteen or so, with dark hair and a face that reminds me just a little of Cody’s. It’s a rainy night, in some warm place where palm trees grow, and he’s working intently at a lab bench, all alone in a room full of gear I don’t recognize. I’m not sure what he’s doing, except that it’s very, very important, and somehow I know that the fate of all mankind depends on what that one boy is doing that very night. He looks exhausted and close to despair, and I wish I could speak, to tell him not to give up.
And that’s all. Just that one image, no context, no explanation, but somehow it means more to me than I could ever explain. Far in the future, he’s some distant child of mine and Cody’s. I know it in that strange and inexplicable way that you simply know things in a dream sometimes.
I don’t doubt that it’s true, and I admit it worries me a little, what may end up happening to them all in that far future time. But I have to believe that whatever may happen, things will work out as they should. Mama told me many times that now is all we ever have, that the past is gone and the future may never come. She would have said that God Himself has no future and no past, that all times for Him are right now, and that therefore if we want to be like Him and to get a small taste of what Heaven must be like, then the present is the only place we can do that. So I’ve been trying, hard as it is sometimes.
In May, I found out I was pregnant. My immediate reaction was to
instantly start worrying about anything and everything that might go wrong, and for a while it was hard to be quite as happy as I felt like I ought to have been. I didn’t even tell Cody for almost a month, irrationally afraid that if I got too excited something bad might happen. But gradually, as time went by, I put aside my fears and became more confident that things would be all right.
He came in smelling like peaches, on the day I finally told him. Yellow Freestones, to be exact; I’ve had a thorough education about the peculiarities of peaches since coming to Goliad. It was harvest time, and the scent had soaked into his clothes and even his hair, so strong it was almost like potpourri. It was a little odd, mixed with the scent of sunshine and sweat, but I wrapped my arms around him and took a deep breath of his t-shirt before he kissed me. He must have been eating fruit off the trees, because I could taste warm peach on his lips, too.
“Monkey kiss,” I said, smiling.
“Yeah, couldn’t resist. They’re really good, fresh in the sun like that,” he said.
“I bet,” I said.
“Here, I brought you some,” he said, handing me three of them wrapped up in his handkerchief.
“Well, so happens I have a surprise for you, too,” I said.
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” he asked. I could tell he was completely clueless, and I drew it out a bit longer, relishing the suspense.
“Well. . . we’re having a baby, Coby; aren’t you happy?” I asked, enjoying the look of shocked surprise on his face.
“Oh, wow,” he said, or something like that. Maybe he was too stunned to think of anything else, but it was a statement so bland that I couldn’t help laughing.
“Is that really all you can think of to say?” I asked, still amused.
“Hey, you’ve had a lot longer to think about it than I have,” he reminded me, and I relented.
“Yeah, true. I guess I ought to let you recover for a few minutes before I expect you to say anything. You are happy, though, right?” I said.
“Absolutely. Cross my heart and hope to eat Brussels sprouts. That’s a fate worse than death, you know,” he said. He took me in his arms and kissed me on the forehead without saying anything, and for a long time neither did I.
“It’ll be born in January,” I finally murmured.
“Cool. Maybe we’ll have the same birthday. That’d be awesome, now wouldn’t it?” he said.
Christopher Marlowe once said Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight? That’s how it feels, sometimes. I feel like I’ve loved Cody ever since the day I was born, like we were made for each other stitch by stitch like a glove is made for a hand. He completes and fulfills me in ways I never knew I was lacking till I found him. I feel like God must have written us together into the story of the world on the day the universe was made. So many things could have kept us apart, and yet here we are.
I don’t know what the future will bring, or how many sorrows and hurts it might throw at us. But I’m certain that as long as we’re together, we can always overcome them. When I think about all the things we’ve already endured, it only makes me even more certain that nothing can ever come between us.
Cody loves me like the sun loves the green grass, like the rain loves a new-plowed field, like a burning fire that cleanses and leaves me pure. I love him like a yellow rose loves the summer heat, like a blue sea loves the blue sky, a reflection of glory that makes him whole.
There are times when love is so right that it can bring tears to the eyes for very sweetness, and all the poetry in the world could never be beautiful enough to capture it. Only the ones who are blessed enough to find it themselves can really understand.
I wish I’d known back in the old days, how much better the truth can be than even the most beautiful fairy tale. Cody and I have found it, at long last, in spite of everything, and I wouldn’t trade that for any other treasure this world could offer. Life doesn’t always turn out like a Scarlett Blaze romance, even though I know I once hoped it would.
Sometimes it’s even better.
Epilogue - Cody
Goliad is full of life these days, in a way that it hasn’t been ever since I can remember. The weather seems better this year, so hopefully there’ll be no more drought to worry about. I keep busy in the fields and the pastures and the orchard, with farming and music and family, and even though the work is hard I love it.
Brandon is more help than I ever thought he’d be, especially with mechanical things. He can work on the tractor almost as well as I can these days. He’s still enough of a kid to think I walk on water, though; I’m not sure exactly when the hostility got replaced by hero-worship, but it happened sometime. I still wonder a lot about what it might mean that we share the bright blue eyes of a curse-breaker, but for now I haven’t said anything. If God has a plan in mind, then I’m content to wait and see.
I talk to the baby every night, which made Lisa laugh at first until she realized he’d stop kicking for a while to listen. Then she was all for it. So I tell him about life and love and red dirt bands and anything else under the sun. I know he won’t remember, of course, but it’s really kind of amazing how much you can socialize with a baby that small, if you only try. We decided to name him Micah, after the prophet, even though I’m sure we’ll end up calling him Mike or Mikey or some such thing as that.
Becoming a father makes you thoughtful about a lot of things you never paid much attention to before, and knowing there’s another person who depends on you so completely is a humbling experience. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, though. In fact, there’s nothing else I know of which is more likely to inspire a man to greatness of heart, if there was ever a spark of it to be found in him to begin with.
I think a lot about what to do with Cadron Pool, because that’s an awesome responsibility, too. The first thing we did was to track down as many of Layla’s victims as we could, but that’s been hard. She was always so anonymous about things, it’s hard to know when or where she met people. James Fitch wouldn’t believe me, not even after I drove all the way up to Nebraska to plead with him. I think that probably stung the most, but there was nothing I could do for him if he wouldn’t listen. But there have been two so far that we did find and save; one from Missouri and another from Oregon. I hope we’ll be able to find more; I’m certain there are plenty of them out there.
So that will be our life’s work, it seems; to heal hurts and make things right, and Goliad will indeed be a refuge for the broken and a place of peace in ways I never even thought of before. I feel rich beyond my wildest imaginings, and I could never have dreamed of a life so sweet and full until suddenly it was there. God is awesome that way; a loving father who delights to give his children all the good things they ever wished for, and even more than they wished for. He may do it in a way which isn’t quite what you expected at first, but He never forgets or overlooks.
I’ve also been thinking a lot about Layla Garza herself here lately, and what it might mean that she liked the taste of my father’s life. My father was noble and his heart was always bound close to God, but there was nothing else to set him apart or make him special. So if Layla found that she liked the taste of that, if she learned to thirst for God even in the midst of all her wickedness, then maybe in time her heart might be broken with longing for what the world can never give, and she might, just possibly, become one of the saints herself. And if that’s true, then Daddy really did give his life to save her, in a much deeper way than he or anybody else ever suspected. And for that I’m prouder of him than ever, and I wish I could tell him so. Maybe someday I will.
I had another dream last night, and I’m not sure if it was one of the true kind or not. I saw Lisa and me, standing in a field of bluebonnets, hand in hand. Three kids were playing around our feet, and the setting sun cast a golden glow on our faces. Was it real, or only wishes? God only knows.
But for now, I’m content to sit beside Lisa on the porch and pick
my twelve-string, to watch the sun set on Mount Nebo, and to think about Love.
In Beauty be it finished, after all.
The End
The story of Brandon, Lisa, Cody, and the rest of the Stone family continues two years later in:
Bran the Blessed
The Stones of Song Series: Book Three
A Curse-Breaker Book
By William Woodall
Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial,
Because when he has stood the test,
He will receive the crown of life
That God has promised to those who love Him.
-James 1:16
Prologue
“I had a really strange dream last night,” Lana said.
“Yeah? What about?” Brandon asked, coming to sit down on the bench beside her. She quickly handed him a bottle of cold water, and he drank nearly three quarters of it before spraying the rest on his sweaty face. The blistering heat of an east Texas summer could make football practice a brutal ordeal, especially if you didn’t drink enough.
The situation did have its good points, though. Lana’s job as the water girl gave him a perfect excuse to spend some time with her now and then, as long as they were careful not to do anything overly affectionate in public. It was strictly against the rules for any exchange student to have a boyfriend, and certainly not an obvious one. The need for secrecy was irksome at times, but unfortunately it couldn’t be helped.
Lana waited till he was done with the water, and then told him about her dream.
“I saw a wolf with red fur, and he was running through the woods all alone on a cloudy day in the winter. I think he must have been running for a long time, because his paws were bleeding on the snow. Then he came to an open place and howled at the sky as if his heart was breaking. It was the saddest sound I ever heard. But finally a ray of sunshine came down through the clouds and lit up the clearing,” she said.
She spoke almost flawless English, thanks to the fact that it had been a required subject in Leningrad Province every year since kindergarten. In fact, a stranger who knew no better might easily have mistaken her for a British girl instead of a Russian.
“That’s definitely strange,” Brandon agreed, furrowing his brow.
“So what does it mean?” she asked, with complete seriousness. Bran could have counted on the fingers of one hand the number of people who knew about his gift for interpreting dreams and visions, but Lana Krisanova was one of them.
“I’ll have to ask and see,” Brandon said, and then shut his eyes to pray.
“Anything?” Lana asked, when he opened his eyes again.
“It’s. . . weird,” Brandon said, fumbling for the right word.
“Like how?” Lana asked.
“The wolf is me, which I guess is pretty obvious from the red fur. It means I’ll have to go through some really sad and lonely times one of these days, but it’ll turn out to be a wonderful blessing in the end,” he said. It was a cryptic answer at best, but Brandon had long since learned not to ask twice. God had revealed what He meant to make known, and that was that. For Bran the gift was an old and familiar thing after all these years, no more remarkable than his double-jointed thumbs or his cherry-red hair.
“I guess that’s a good thing,” Lana said, seeming less than enthusiastic about his interpretation.
“I guess so. You better not be speaking curses over my head, girl,” Brandon teased, not wanting to make too much of it. Just as he hoped, her slight frown soon dissolved into a smile.
“You know I’d never do that, Beebo,” Lana said, and then held up the first two fingers of her left hand. It was supposed to mean I love you, a secret code they could use in public when the actual words would never do. Brandon returned the smile, and then raised his own two fingers back at her.
His water break had lasted as long as he could stretch it at that point, so he quickly poured another bottle all over his face and neck before heading back out to the field. He wasn’t too concerned about the strange dream and what it might entail, or at least not yet. As long as he knew it would turn out to be a blessing anyway, who cared?
He was too happy in those days to worry about much of anything, actually. He hadn’t been in trouble at school in over a year, he had the best girl and the best family in the world, and God had showered him with more blessings and wonders than most people ever dreamed of.
Besides his gift of foresight, the greatest marvel of them all had been Cadron Pool, of course; the holy spring at the foot of Mount Nebo which could cure any sickness or injury. That Pool belonged mostly to his sister Lisa and her husband Cody, true enough, and Brandon’s only real job was to carry the weakest and sickest visitors down into the water if they lacked the strength to do it themselves. But even so, he treasured his own small part in such a glorious calling. It was an awesome thing to see people with vicious diseases made suddenly clean and whole, to watch them come up out of the water laughing and weeping and praising God at the top of their lungs. These miracles of healing were some of Brandon’s happiest memories, from a life which seemed rich and sweet as crumb cake in those days.
But there were creeping shadows just beyond the bounds of this bright and beautiful world. The evil witch known as Layla Garza still thirsted for vengeance, and there were others more than happy to assist her in spinning fresh webs of sorcery and deceit. Nor did he yet imagine the price in sorrow that would someday be asked of him for the sake of Love. For just as his brother had been chosen before him, so also Brandon was called to a high and lonely destiny full of blood and tears.
It has been told elsewhere how Brian Stone found his way at last to the Fountain of Youth at the heart of the world, and then drank of that pure and icy water. Of how God blessed him to live far beyond his years, young and beautiful till the end, and granted him the power to break for a little while the curse of the Fall, to turn men’s eyes back to Heaven in memory of what was lost. Indeed, the tale of his deeds has been lifted in song by many a glad heart throughout the darkest corners of the earth since that day. Yet of all his mighty and wonderful works, none were greater in his own eyes than the moment when God gave back life to a dead little boy named Brandon, beloved by his brother above all things in the world.
But that was long ago, and Brandon himself rarely remembered these things anymore. He was content with his full and placid life, and except for the mysterious warning of Lana’s dream he was still blissfully unaware of what lay ahead.
He was soon to find out.
Many Waters Page 48
