With the file off her desk, Iona turned her thoughts back to her mother. She looked at the telephone for several minutes trying to decide whether or not to call her. With everything else going on this week, Iona didn’t know what she would do if her mother had gotten worse. But then she decided that she didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to talk to Cynda.
She picked up the telephone and dialed, laughing to herself as she remembered telling friends in high school about her summer home. Back then she tried to make the fact that she split her time between her mother’s and father’s homes seem like something out of the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. If her high school friends had seen the small one-story house Keith had back then, she would have been the laughingstock rather than the homecoming queen of her high school class. But Keith’s construction business had prospered and they now lived in a seven thousand square foot mansion. Her mom called their home, The House That God Built. Iona wondered if God would re-build her mother.
Cynda picked up the phone and said, “Hey, honey, I was just praying for you. What’s going on down there?”
“You don’t even want to know, Mom. And I didn’t call to discuss the craziness going on in this town. I want to know how you’re doing.”
Cynda sighed. “I have good days and bad. Today has been a bad day for me, hon. I haven’t been able to get out of bed, so I’ve just been praying where I lay.”
Iona closed her eyes and brought her hand up to her head. She ran her hand through her hair as she said, “I hate to hear that, Mom. Do you think I should come out there today instead of tomorrow?” In other words, do you think you’re going to die tonight?
“No, baby. I wouldn’t be good company today. You go on and take care of your business there. I can wait until tomorrow to see you.”
“Are you sure, Mom?” Please don’t die on me.
“I’m sure. Let me rest today. And we can throw a party tomorrow. Okay?”
Iona laughed. “Okay. I’ll bring the party favors.”
***
A hulking figure unseen by Iona sat huddled against the wall in her office. His assignment was just to watch. Iona had not yet yielded herself to the Lord, and because of that, she was vulnerable to all the attacks of Satan. The angel was bold and fearless, well able to defeat the demonic forces sent by the enemy, but he could do nothing until Iona began to believe.
Miguel had been assigned to Iona when she was just a young child. But he hadn’t been able to enter into many battles on her behalf. Her mother and father covered her with their prayers when she was younger, but Iona had long since reached an age where she needed to cover herself. And until she learned how to do that, his angelic protection meant nothing to her. And that was a shame, for the angel knew that Iona was in grave danger. He only wished that she knew it. If she knew the danger that lurked just around the next corner, maybe she would begin to pray, and then he could unsheath his sword and do battle for her. For these heavenly and hellish battles were not meant for humans to fight. The Lord wanted His angels to fight battles for humans, but people like Iona just wouldn’t pray; wouldn’t seek God.
A burst of light entered the office. The angel saw Iona blink twice and then rub her eyes trying to adjust them to the brightness that was suddenly a part of her world. But the angel knew that Iona would never be able to adjust to the light the commander angel, Arnoth, exuded. He even had trouble with it at times.
The angel stood and Arnoth’s light began to dim. He lowered his head, ashamed of the position of inactivity he’d been in for more years than he wanted to admit.
“Commander, what brings you here?” the angel asked.
Arnoth glanced over at Iona as she adjusted the blinds in her office then came back to her seat to look over the files on her desk. Cynda Williams, Iona’s mother was his charge and he had been knighted because of the battles he endured during her journey back to God. He turned back to the angel before him and said, “Miguel, your wait is over. Cynda has been praying fervently for this one,” he pointed to Iona. “And the Lord revealed to me that a great battle is about to take place and she will be right in the midst of it. So get ready to unsheath your sword. The Almighty has commanded that you protect her.”
When Miguel put his hand on his sword and lifted it above his head, there was joy on his face. For he had finally been unleashed to help Iona fend off the attacks of the enemy.
Chapter 15
Vinny Thompson walked out of the county lockup early Thursday morning after his baby’s mama came up with the bail money. His public defender thought he had a good chance of beating the charges against him. Like he’d told Iona;:no witnesses.
Thursday night he sat in his girlfriend’s Toyota checking out a two-story house in a suburban section of town. This job was going to go better than the last one. Basically, as long as it ended without him getting arrested, it would go down in his book as a better job. No one was home at this fancy-dancy five bedroom house that could easily house his two sisters and four brothers. Maybe they’d have to double up, but they could make it work. If his family had received breaks like this wonderfully blessed family, maybe he wouldn’t have turned to a life of crime. Maybe he would have gone to college to become a doctor or something else slick like that.
So, really these people owed him for the good life they had. Every now and then they needed to give to the poor. And Vinny was about to help them do just that. He put on his gloves, opened his car door and grabbed his tools. His mark didn’t have a fence around the house, so he walked right up the driveway. It was dark outside and he wore all black and had a black cap pulled over his head, so he wasn’t worried about anyone being able to ID him as he walked to the back of the house.
He bent down in front of the back door and opened his kit. This would be a piece of cake. Rich people living in so called safe neighborhoods always thought they were safe. So they didn’t bother using half the high-tech equipment provided by their security system. Just as he started working the ratchet wrenches on the door jam, he heard footsteps behind him.
At that moment, Vinny wondered if he should find another line of work. Breaking and entering wasn’t going too well for him. Did a neighbor call the police that quick? Vinny dropped his tools and lifted his hands. “I lost my key. I’m just trying to get into my house, officer.”
Vinny felt the whack of the butt of a gun as it connected with the back of his head. He was sure it was a gun because the one time he’d been knocked out before was when someone knocked him in the head with a gun. He’d fainted, and when he woke up he realized that it hadn’t been a cop that had hit him. It was Chico, the supervisor from the car wash he’d worked at. For some reason, Chico had thought he’d broken into his house and he wanted all his stuff back.
As Vinny blacked out, this second time he wondered who had followed him to this house. Who wanted their stuff back now?
***
Cynda was lying in the bed in the family room singing praises to the Lord when Iona walked in. Keith had picked her up from the airport and seemed to be in good spirits. Iona didn’t understand this since his wife was at home struggling to stay alive. So she had asked Keith, “What’s got you in such a good mood?”
Keith smiled as he grabbed her bag. He then turned to Iona and said, “Nothing in particular. I just love the Lord, and I was thinking about that all day today.”
And now as Iona stood in her mother’s family room and watched her struggle to raise her hands as she sung, “You are great; You do miracles so great,” Iona wanted to remind her mother that she was giving praise to the same God that had allowed her to be stricken with cancer.
Iona rolled her eyes, stormed upstairs to her bedroom and slammed the door. She wanted to block out her mother’s and Keith’s delusions of this great God coming to their rescue. Her mother couldn’t even get out of bed for God’s sake.
Iona sat down on her bed, picked up her pillow and covered her face with it as she bent her head toward her knees and screamed into the p
illow. She screamed and screamed and screamed until Keith swung her door open and knelt down in front of her.
He pulled the pillow out of Iona’s grasp and pulled her into an embrace. But Iona broke free and stood up. Tears were flowing down her face. She defiantly wiped them away.
“It’s okay, Iona. Calm down, honey,” he told her.
She wiped more tears away but they kept falling. “I don’t want to calm down. I’m angry.” She pointed at him and said, “And you should be too. But no, you are here thinking on the goodness of the Lord and my mother is down their praising His holy name.”
Keith reached out to her. “Iona, come to me. Okay?”
“No,” she shouted. “I don’t want you to comfort me. I want my mother to live. Can you do that for me, Keith? Can you get that prayer through to God?”
Even in the midst of Iona claiming that she did not want to be comforted, Keith walked toward her with his arms wide open. He pulled her back into his arms and held her as she cried.
“Please, Keith,” Iona clung to him and said, “Can you get that prayer through?”“God knows, baby. I’ve done nothing but pray about this.”
Iona was running out of steam. She felt overwhelmingly tired and in need of rest. She stepped out of Keith’s embrace and told him, “I’m a little tired, Keith. Let me take a quick nap and then I’ll come sit with Mama so you can pick the kids up from school. Okay?”
“All right,” Keith said and then walked out of the room and closed the door.
Iona laid down and tried to imagine what the world would be like if she still believed in knights in shining armor, good things coming to those who wait and happy endings to disastrous beginnings. She didn’t know where, how or even when, but her innocence had been stolen – and Iona wanted it back. She closed her eyes hoping that when she reopened them she would believe again.
It was two in the afternoon when Iona woke up. She had slept about an hour and a half. She yawned and stretched. She then got out of bed and went downstairs to check on her mother.
Cynda was reciting scriptures from the verses Iona had put on the wall during her last visit, she turned from the poster to smile at Iona as she entered the room. “Did you sleep well, honey?”
Iona nodded and then sat down next to Cynda’s bed. She noticed that her mom looked even thinner than she had last weekend. The silk gown she was in seemed to swallow her. Iona willed herself not to cry as she asked Cynda, “Have you been back to the doctor, Mama? What is he saying now?”
Cynda smiled and said, “Sure have, hon. Doctor Jesus visits me everyday. He says that everything is going to be all right.”
In frustration, Iona put her head in her hands as she realized that she had not awakened in belief of happy endings as she had hoped. She removed her hands and lifted her head to the reality of her mother’s condition and said, “I don’t think you understood my question, Mom. I want to know what your real doctor has to say. Are you going to force me to call him myself?”
Cynda put her bone frail hand over Iona’s and patted it. “You’ve got to trust me, Iona. Mother knows best in this situation. Okay?”
Iona didn’t respond
Cynda then told her, “I’m sorry that I won’t be able to take you to the church tomorrow.”
“That’s okay, Mama. I probably wouldn’t have been very good company at the event anyway.”
“Yes you would have,” Cynda said. tThen an idea struck her. “They’re having the Prayer Journey next Saturday also. Promise me that even if I can’t take you, you’ll go anyway.”
Iona wanted to tell her mother that she was summoned to church enough in Ohio; she didn’t need to come to Chicago and be treated the same way. And anyway, she wanted to spend all her time in Chicago with her mother, not at church. But she looked into her mother’s imploring eyes and couldn’t refuse her. “I’ll do it on one condition,” Iona said.
“Name it.”
“You have to be well enough to go with me.”
Cynda turned her head from Iona and looked heavenward. She said in a loud voice, “Did you hear that, Lord? You’ve been given a challenge. Don’t let me down, Lord. We’ve got to get this girl to that Prayer Journey.”
Iona sat in silence as she wondered if her mother would still be alive next weekend, let alone well enough to go to some Prayer Journey with her. If her mother did make it through to next weekend, Iona decided that she wanted to spend the time her mother had left right here with her.
“I have three weeks of vacation. So when I go back home on Monday, I’m going to clear out my schedule and then I’m going to spend those three weeks with you. Would that be okay?” Iona asked.
“Of course I’d love for you to stay with us. Since I’ve had to compete with your father for your attention, I’ve always felt like I was fighting a losing battle and that you’d rather be with him than spend time with me.”
“You didn’t have to compete with Daddy, Mama. I think it was just that I had been your only child for ten years, and then suddenly you had three more kids and I didn’t know where I fit in all of that.”
“But your dad has another son,” Cynda said.
“That was different. Donavan had been there before I came. So I guess I knew I had to share with him.” She hunched her shoulders and continued, “And I guess it didn’t hurt as much to share dad and Nina with Donavan. But it sure bothered me to have to share you.”
“I’m sorry, Iona. I never meant to do anything to cause you more hurt than I had already caused.”
“I know that, Mama. Anyway, that was my issue. I’m just sad that it took me this long to get over it.” Iona’s voice cracked and tears crept into her eyes as she said, “I miss the time I didn’t spend with you.”
“Me too, baby. Me too,” Cynda said just before she fell asleep.
The rest of the weekend went by in a blur. Iona didn’t just spend time with her mother, Keith and her three brothers hung out with them in the family room as well. Consequently, they were stuck watching cartoons and sports. It was torture that Iona grew to love.
On Sunday evening the telephone rang. Keith got up to answer it and Iona knew right away it was Isaac.
Keith said, “Hey knuckle head, what’s going on with you?” Keith and Isaac had been boys since they were in their early teens. But actually, they were more like brothers. Nothing ever came between them except when Keith informed Isaac that God had instructed him to marry Cynda. Since she had been Isaac’s ex-girlfriend, the two had bumped heads over the matter. But God’s will prevailed and Keith and Isaac’s friendship survived and grew stronger.
Iona couldn’t hear her father’s side of the conversation, but she saw Keith’s face turn from happy, to puzzled, to terror stricken as he continued his conversation with her father. Finally Keith looked at her and said, “Hon, your dad needs to talk with you. You might want to take this upstairs.”
“Okay,” Iona said as she stood up and took the telephone out of Keith’s hand. She put the receiver to her ear as she walked up the stairs. “What’s going on, Daddy? Did something happen to Donavan?”
“No. Donavan is fine as far as I know. How’s everything going with your mom?”
Iona caught the false chipper sound of Isaac’s voice and refused to let him drag out whatever news he had to deliver to her. “She’s kind of weak right now, but I want to know what’s going on with you. So spill it.”
The fake chipperness left Isaac’s voice as he said, “I do have something to tell you. But I want you to know right up front that the only reason I’m telling you now is because I didn’t want you to come home to any surprises.”
“Fair enough. What is it, Daddy?”
“It’s Vinny, Iona. Someone killed him.”
“What?” she exploded.
“That’s not all, Baby Girl.” Isaac took a deep breath and trod on. “The killer sent me an email Friday night.”
Iona sat down on her bed. “You’re kidding me, right, Daddy?”
“I wish
I was. The email said, ‘Thieves deserve to die’. Then it gave directions to the place where Vinny’s body was.”
“I don’t get it, Daddy. Why is this whack job killing people just because they like to steal? I mean, there are all sorts of other crimes out there, why is he so fixated on thieves? And why is he so fixated on you?”
“Maybe he believes that stealing is the worst crime of all. I don’t know,” Isaac said, then added, “Maybe he also thinks I will agree with him since I’m a pastor and he is trying to justify his actions. Anyway, Iona, the detectives that were at the church last week have requested that I come to the precinct.”
Now Iona was confused. “Why do they want to talk with you?”
“I called them as soon as I opened the email – that’s how they found the body. He was right where the killer told me he would be.”
“How sick,” Iona said.
“Tell me about it. Anyway, I was hoping you would go with me after I pick you up from the airport tomorrow. Johnny doesn’t think I should go without my attorney.”
Those stupid detectives must suspect her father if Johnny is advising dad to bring an attorney. What did they think? He was sending notes to himself? “Of course I’ll be there. What time do they want to meet with you?”
“Ten in the morning.”
“Let me check Orbitz and see if I can change my flight to get there sooner. I’ll call you back and let you know what time you need to pick me up from the airport.”
“Thanks, Baby Girl. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Chapter 16
Iona and Isaac sat in the interrogation room waiting on the detectives to come in so they could find out why they wanted to speak with Isaac. After waiting ten minutes, Detective Gordon came into the room and slammed a file on the desk. He looked at Isaac as if he were a pedophile who’d just been caught on a playground holding hands with a ponytail wearing little girl.
“So what is it, Pastor Walker? You can’t stand for hypocrites to come to your church? They sin and you judge and jury them with a bullet?”
Through the Storm Page 10
