“I don’t know,” George said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Sometimes Christianity can tear friends—even families—apart.”
They pulled into their driveway, and George turned to Jimmy. “You know you’ll have to be punished. I can’t have you going around punching kids in the nose—even if it seemed like self-defense.”
“At this rate, I’m gonna be grounded for life.”
“It’s going to seem like it. I’m adding two weeks to your restriction,” George said.
“But Dad!”
“Don’t argue. You might get time off for good behavior, but you’re going to have to be really good.”
George opened his door to get out.
Jimmy sat and stewed. Tony had gotten him in trouble again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tuesday Evening at Home
JIMMY WENT STRAIGHT to his room and paced around like a lion in a cage. Two more weeks’ restriction, and all because of Tony. It wasn’t fair!
His mom peeked in on him. “Hi, Jimmy,” she said.
“Hi,” he said unhappily.
“Sorry you had a bad day.”
Jimmy frowned at her.
“Dave left some material on your study desk, if you want to look at it,” she continued. “Considering what happened today, you should probably read it.” And she retreated from the room.
Jimmy went to his desk. He wished he’d been there when Dave came. He needed to talk to Dave or Jacob. He frowned again and thought how stupid it was that Jacob was taught at home. If he’d been at school with Jimmy, he could have helped Jimmy deal with Tony and Brad.
“To Jimmy B,” said the writing on the large, yellow envelope. He flipped up the clasp on the back and dumped out the contents. A small paperback book fell on top of his normal junk. “Tips for New Christians,” the cover said.
In his frame of mind, Jimmy didn’t have the patience to read the book. He simply flipped through the various sections about the importance of Bible study, prayer, sharing the faith—and one particular section about the life of a new Christian.
“Purity is a vital part of the new Christian’s life,” the book said. “You need to be pure in what you see and hear and do. As a new believer, you don’t want to expose yourself to anything that will stunt your growth in Jesus. With a prayerful heart, look closely at the books you read, the television shows you watch, the music you listen to. Maybe it’s time to clean your house and—and your soul—of risky, un-Christian material.”
Jimmy had the sense to know that as long as he was mad at Tony, he wouldn’t have a very “prayerful heart.” But he glanced over at his CD player and saw some CDs Tony had played the night Jimmy smoked the cigar.
He picked one up and thought about purity. This’ll stunt my growth in Jesus, he said to himself. Clenching the thin disc between his fingers, he angrily broke it in half. Then he grabbed a second CD and broke it.
It made Jimmy feel good. Pure, he thought.
He broke one CD after another—until he exhausted his own collection and wondered how pure his parents’ and sister’s collections were.
“I’ll kill him!” Donna Barclay said.
“All right, let’s not get carried away,” George said.
Jimmy sat on the living room sofa and watched his judges and jury. He was no longer mad at Tony. That emotion had been moved to a position of lesser importance now that his family was ready to hand him over to a juvenile detention agency.
“When did you do it?” Mary asked in a bewildered tone. “How did you do it so fast?”
“We were in the family room watching the movie,” Donna offered. “That’s when he did it. We thought he was upstairs doing his homework or…or reading his Bible.”
George leaned against the doorway into the dining room. “I can’t keep up with you anymore, Jimmy,” he said. “Today you punched your best friend in the nose, and tonight— What possessed you?”
“We don’t want anything in the house that’ll stunt our growth in Jesus, right?”
George and Mary looked at each other as if to decide who would answer. George shrugged helplessly.
“Right,” Mary said. “But you should leave the decision of what will stunt our growth to us.”
“Did you see what he did to my room?” Donna growled. “He took down my posters! He went through my books! He broke my CDs!”
“Not the Christian ones,” Jimmy said in his own defense.
“That’s not the point! You’re supposed to keep your hands off my stuff!” Donna insisted.
“Okay, calm down,” George said to Donna. Then he turned his attention to Jimmy. “Son, I appreciate your enthusia—”
“Enthusiasm!” Donna cried out as if she might tear at her hair in exasperation.
“Yes,” George said. “If I remember right, enthusiasm is normal for a new Christian. Don’t you remember, Donna? When you became a new Christian, you tried to plaster Christian bumper stickers all over the car. And I don’t think you asked us first, either.”
“That was different.”
“No, it wasn’t. You were enthusiastic about your newfound belief— just like Jimmy. But what we need is balance and consideration. So, Jimmy, next time you get the…uh, inspiration to purge the house of things you consider less than Christian, talk to us first, okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where did you put Donna’s things?” Mary asked.
“In the garage. I put everybody’s stuff in a box next to the garbage can,” Jimmy answered.
George shook his head as if he hadn’t heard correctly. “Everybody’s stuff? Which everybody’s stuff?”
“Yours and Mom’s,” Jimmy said.
Mary was on the edge of her seat. “Our stuff?” she asked. “You went through our stuff, too?”
“Yeah! You guys really oughtta be ashamed of yourselves,” Jimmy said.
But his words were lost in the commotion as George, Mary, and Donna raced to the garage.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Wednesday Afternoon
JIMMY DIDN’T SEE Tony again until the next day at recess. He had just finished a round of dodgeball when he noticed that Tony was sitting on the sidelines, watching him. Mr. Parks blew the whistle for everyone to go back into the building.
“Hey, Jimmy,” Tony said as he ran up to him.
Jimmy prepared himself another clash, maybe even a fight. “What?” he asked.
Tony walked at Jimmy’s side. “Slow down, I wanna talk to you.”
“What about?”
“You know,” Tony said.
At a glance, Jimmy noticed that the punch in the nose hadn’t done any damage. He felt a twinge of disappointment that he didn’t have more power in his punch. “No, I don’t.”
“What happened yesterday. Do I have to spell it out?” Tony asked.
At that moment, Jimmy realized that in all the years of their friendship, they had never had to say they were sorry to each other. Even when they got on each other’s nerves or had an argument, apologies were simply understood, not spoken.
“Look,” Tony said, “I shouldn’t have teased you so much. It’s just that…well…I don’t get this Christian thing. That’s all.”
Dad was right, Jimmy thought. Tony acted like a jerk because he felt Jimmy was rejecting him—leaving him behind by heading into a new experience. So that was it. That was Tony’s apology. “Forget about it,” Jimmy said.
They walked silently to the door. “A bunch of us are going to the gazebo in McAlister Park after school,” Tony finally said. “Tim Ryan has something he wants to show us. He says it’s real cool. You wanna come?”
Tim Ryan was well known for finding all kinds of neat things for Jimmy and his friends to look at. A few weeks ago, he had brought bullets from his dad’s gun. But Jimmy said, “My parents said I have to go straight home after school. I’m still on restriction, remember?”
“Just tell ’em you stayed after school to do homework or something. You can figure it out,” T
ony suggested.
Jimmy knew this was like offering him a peace pipe. It was a way to be friends the way they were before. If he said no, it would be the same as hitting Tony in the nose all over again. He had to say yes. “Well…okay. I’ll try.”
“Good,” Tony said, and he spun on his heel to go to class.
The gazebo in McAlister Park was a popular place in the summer, even though it was out of the way. It was shaped like a large, round, wooden porch with open sides and a white roof. Bands often played there, politicians made speeches from it, and couples sat in it with their arms around each other while dreaming the warm days away. As the cloudy afternoons of September rolled into October, that part of the park saw fewer people come through. It was a perfect meeting place for a group of kids.
By the time Jimmy got there, Tony, Brad, and a few of their other friends were gathered in the center of the gazebo. “Tim’s not here yet,” Tony explained when Jimmy joined them.
“What’s he got?” Jimmy asked as he dropped his schoolbooks onto one of the benches that lined the gazebo.
“You’ll see,” Tony said.
“There he is!” Gary Holman said, pointing.
They turned to look. Tim ran toward them, all smiles as he carried a brown bag. He took the stairs to the gazebo two at a time and was breathless when he reached the other boys. “Hi, guys,” he gasped.
“Did you get them?” Tony asked.
“Yeah!” Tim said. “My dad almost caught me, though.”
“What is it?” Jimmy asked.
“Here.” Tim opened the bag for everyone to look. Inside were strings of firecrackers, a small rocket, matches, and a small can of lighter fluid.
“Great!” Tony said.
“What’s the lighter fluid for?” Cory Sleazak asked.
“Oh, just in case it’s too windy to light the fuses,” Tim answered. “I figured it’ll help keep everything burning.”
Tony took charge. “Gary, keep an eye out. We don’t wanna set these things off when somebody’s coming.”
“We’re setting them all off?” Jimmy asked.
Tony smiled and said, “Yeah! Fourth of July at the beginning of October!”
“The noise’ll make people come running. We’ll get in trouble,” Jimmy said.
Tony frowned at him. “Not if we light the fuse and run, you idiot. We’ll soak the long fuse in lighter fluid so it’ll burn while we run. Then we can watch the fireworks from the woods.” He turned to Tim and instructed, “Let’s get it going.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Jimmy said, knowing full well that he would look like a party pooper.
“Quit being a spoilsport!” Cory said. “Or should we call you Saint James?”
“Shut up,” Tony snapped at Cory. “He’s not like that. Now come on, let’s put everything on the floor and get it ready.”
Jimmy watched silently as Tony and Tim stretched the string of firecrackers along the wooden floor, paying careful attention to the fuse.
“What should we do with the rocket?” Tim asked.
“Put it at the end of the firecrackers so its fuse’ll catch when they go off,” Tony said.
“Let’s point it toward the field,” Cory suggested.
Tony grabbed the rocket. “Good idea!” he said. He positioned it so it would shoot through the opening between the banister and the roof. He tied the rocket fuse to the firecracker fuse so it would catch.
“Get back. I’m gonna pour the lighter fluid on it now,” Tim said.
Everyone took a few steps back. Tim poured the fluid onto the firecracker fuse.
He laughed as he said, “I’m spilling it.”
“Put some on the rocket fuse,” Tony told him. “Hurry or it’ll evaporate.”
Tim laughed harder as he spilled more of the fluid. Finally he just turned the can upside down and poured it all over the firecrackers and rocket. “That’ll help it go up faster,” he said.
Jimmy didn’t know a lot about lighter fluid, but something told him this was a bad idea. Even if it evaporated quickly in the cool breeze, it might make the fireworks explode faster than they wanted and hit them before they could run. Jimmy was about to protest when Tony lit a match.
“Run!” he shouted and threw the match at the fuse. It caught immediately. The kids ran out of the gazebo and toward the woods about 25 yards away. Jimmy ducked behind a large tree with Tony and watched.
From where they stood, Jimmy could see the smoke—more than there should’ve been for just a fuse. “What if the gazebo catches on fire?” Jimmy whispered to Tony.
Tony looked as if the idea hadn’t occurred to him. He shrugged.
Suddenly—Pop!—then another Pop!—then Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! as the string of firecrackers sparked and exploded like a gangster’s machine gun. From behind various trees, the kids pointed and laughed.
“That’s better than the Fourth of July!” Tony shouted.
The firecrackers were still banging away when the rocket hissed loudly and took off. But the trajectory was all wrong. Instead of shooting toward the field, it spun and spiraled upward into the roof of the gazebo. Jimmy watched in wonder.
Kaboom! The blast echoed throughout the park. Smoke poured out the top of the gazebo.
“It’s on fire!” Jimmy gasped. “It’s on fire!”
“Get out of here!” Tony yelled and raced into the woods. The rest of the kids followed. Jimmy stood mesmerized where he was, not sure of what to do as smoke blew from the gazebo. “Jimmy! Run!” Tony screamed from a distance.
It was enough. Jimmy panicked and ran home.
“Oh, God, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,” Jimmy puffed as he ran. He didn’t know which direction Tony and the other kids went, nor did he care. He shouldn’t have gone to the gazebo, he knew. He shouldn’t have let them light firecrackers. The gazebo’s going to burn down, and it’s all my fault.
What should he do? Tell his parents? Call the fire department? He didn’t know. What was the Christian thing to do? “God, help me. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry….”
By the time he reached his front door, he knew he had to tell his parents. They could call the fire department. But Jimmy figured the gazebo would be burned down by that time. And then he’d be an arsonist and go to jail.
He burst through the front door on the verge of tears. In the living room, several heads turned in his direction. He stopped dead in his tracks. His mom and dad, Donna, Dave, and Jacob were sitting with very serious expressions on their faces.
They already know! Jimmy thought.
“Jimmy!” his dad said. “Where’ve you been? We’ve been looking for you.”
As an automatic response, Jimmy nearly said he’d stayed late at school to do his homework. Then he realized he didn’t have his books with him—he had left them at the gazebo, where they were either ashes or evidence for the fire chief. That was the end. His life was over. He began to sob.
Mary rushed to Jimmy and wrapped her arms around him. “Aw, that’s all right, Jimmy. It’ll be okay.” His ear pressed against her, he heard her say to the others, “I guess he got the message at school.”
Jimmy looked up at her through misty eyes. “Message?” He was confused.
“About your grandmother,” she said and stroked his hair. “She’s taken a turn for the worse. We have to leave right away.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Wednesday Evening
THINGS WERE HAPPENING too fast for Jimmy’s mind to cope. Suddenly he had to jump from the gazebo to his grandmother.
“I need you to pack,” his mom told him. Then she glanced around and asked, “Where are your schoolbooks?”
“I left them—”
“You’re going to need them,” she interrupted. “Your teacher told me what homework you can do while we’re gone.”
“I’ll drive you back to school,” his dad said.
Jimmy opened his mouth to tell them his books weren’t at school. They were at the burned-down
gazebo. But Dave spoke first.
“I know you have a lot of things to do,” Dave said. He and Jacob stood up. “How about if we take him to get his books? That’ll be one less thing for you to worry about. Besides, I’d like to talk to him before you go.”
“If you don’t mind,” George said.
“I don’t,” Dave said with a smile. “Let’s go, Jimmy.”
Jimmy felt as if he were caught in a strong current that carried him down a river. But whether he was headed for a peaceful lake or a rocky waterfall, he couldn’t be sure.
Dave hugged Mary, then George, then Donna. “God be with you,” he said. “We’ll pray for you.”
“Thanks,” everyone muttered.
With a hand on each of their shoulders, Dave guided Jimmy and Jacob to the door. “I’ll have him back in a few minutes,” he said.
In the car, Jimmy confessed to Dave that his books weren’t at school but at the gazebo.
“Gazebo! In McAlister Park?” Dave asked.
Jimmy nodded.
“What were you doing at the gazebo? I thought you were on restriction. Weren’t you supposed to come straight home after school?”
“Yeah,” Jimmy answered. “But I didn’t.”
From his place behind the steering wheel, Dave glanced across the seat at Jimmy. “Then you didn’t get the message about your grandmother.”
“No,” Jimmy said.
“So you weren’t crying about her. You were crying about something else.”
Jimmy’s chest tightened. “Yeah.”
“Why were you so upset?”
“You’ll see,” Jimmy said.
They parked the car at the edge of the park and got out. Jimmy looked around for some sign of the fire department or police, but everything seemed quiet as usual. They walked down the path through the woods to the gazebo.
It was still there.
Dave and Jacob both noticed Jimmy’s wide-eyed expression as he approached it. “Jimmy?” Dave inquired.
“It’s still here,” he whispered.
They mounted the steps. “Of course it’s still here. What did you think?” Dave asked.
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