Twist of Faith

by Kelly A. Purcell

9

  All About the Mission

  He pulled up on the curb next to the lot and looked over at her, “well back to your party, safe and sound.”

  She smiled, “there was no doubt in my mind.”

  “You really have faith in your instincts don’t you?” he teased, arching an eyebrow for emphasis.

  Alex lifted a hand toward him and shook her head. “Please not the faith talk,” she said.

  He chuckled, “but you did have a good time, we’re not usually that... you know unprepared.”

  She nodded, “actually it was fun,” she replied as she reached for the door handle.

  Reuben narrowed his eyes at her, “you sound surprised.”

  She grinned, “I... I was kind of expecting something different, more.... I don’t know...”

  “Downbeat and boring?” he added, and then frowned, he hadn’t been hanging with James long and already he was finishing other people’s sentences. He was convinced it was James impatience but now he wasn’t so sure, James wasn’t impatient at all.

  She laughed, “Something like that.”

  “Then come again, third time is the charm. After that you’ll want to be a part of it all.”

  She looked surprised, “really?”

  He chuckled, “naw, I don’t think so. Do you want to?”

  She looked thoughtful for a moment, he’d known her for less than twenty-four hours, but he already knew that distant look in her steely grey eyes and the absent gnawing on her bottom lip, either she was seriously considering what he said or that subject just triggered indifference.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said as she climbed out of the car.

  Reuben leaned over, “that’s what you said the last time, but I’m holding you to it this time.”

  She tossed a smile over her shoulder, as she made her way toward the faceless crowd, dancing to the loud music in the dim evening light, which she soon blended into, as unidentifiable as one in a hundred shadows. He started the car and drove away.

  “What’s wrong with you, boy? You’re about to burn a hole in the carpet with your pacing,” said Mr. Clark as he entered the living room and tossed his brief case on the sofa.

  Reuben turned around with his phone still held to his ear and shrugged, “I’m trying to get Craig, but he’s not answering his phone nor responding to my messages,” he sighed and hung up, turning to look at his father, who had taken his place in his leather recliner in front of the Television.

  He’d just come from the youth gathering at church and from dropping off Alex, and though he was quite tired and wished he could just retreat to his room, lie on his bed and look at pictures of him and Lisa, he was preparing for another engagement. He was just as committed to his responsibilities at the church as he was to Lisa, but still that wasn’t enough. He was still uncertain of what she wanted.

  “Maybe he’s just busy Ruby,” said his father, looking up at him in that matter of fact way he had.

  Reuben pursed his lips thoughtfully and dropped onto the couch, “he knows we were supposed to meet with Mr. Boyd to get donations for the band Dad, he’s just been really difficult lately.”

  “Why don’t you just bring that James boy along, he seems like a nice boy,” they both looked up as Mrs. Clark stepped into the room.

  “Hello darling,” Mr. Clark crooned as she leaned down to plant a light kiss on his lips.

  “James is okay yeah, but you’re forgetting how Craig can’t stand him. He would freak if he finds out I took James instead of him,” Reuben looked absolutely stumped.

  But his mother only smiled; that sweet smile that had convincing, clarifying qualities, “Craig won’t mind Ruby, you’re forgetting how easy going and kind your friend is, I don’t think hatred is an emotion he knows.”

  “I didn’t say he hated him,” he mumbled, turning over the cellular in his hand.

  Mrs. Clark chuckled as her husband played with her fingers where they rested on his shoulder, “I still can’t understand that Lisa girl, you’re the most considerate person I know and am not just saying that because you’re my son.”

  Mr. Clark nodded in agreement, “I don’t have any complaints myself, and a guy with an eighteen year old boy child should have his fair share of worries. But you Reuben are a responsible, caring, enthusiastic boy, full of vision and purpose, very mature for your age,” he paused and looked up at his wife, “when your mother and I thought all hope was lost for us having a child we could cherish, you just appeared, a miracle in a fat cheeked bundle. We thank God for you every day, and no one should ever tell you you’re not enough.”

  He shook his head, “that girl is just confused, she doesn’t know what she wants, so she’s accusing you of feeling the same way.”

  Reuben smiled at them, his eyes brimming with the impact of their sincerity, and he thought of how many people didn’t have parents as supportive and as loving as his own. Somehow he just knew what he would have missed it if he didn’t. He wasn’t blind to his blessing, they were his miracle too, no young couple would’ve taken in a sickly two year old, that looked half his age, and was a slow learner. But the Clarks saw his potential even in his fragile hopeless state, they knew that God had a plan for him and they believed that plan enough to tie their lives to it.

  It made it so much easier to understand Jesus’ sacrifice for people like him and James. Angry James, with a past so ugly he had to lock it away inside him. They had a chance to partake in a life so rewarding, a life of purpose and peace, because Jesus put in the application for their adoption by God even in their weak, worthless state. It thrilled Reuben to extend that truth to others, especially those who never knew the love of a father so great and merciful.

  “Thanks,” he said with a grin, trying to nonchalantly wipe his tears in his shirt sleeve.

  Mrs. Clark reached over and nudged his arm, “Hurry up! You’ll be late.”

  They were returning from the meeting at about seven o’ clock. Night had already pulled its thick blanket over the land, casting dim, looming shadows behind every wall, brush and tree. James and Reuben were hurrying to the car, jubilant with the outcome of the meeting when they noticed an unfriendly looking group, slinking along the fence. Reuben continued naturally but avoided eye contact, but it was James who caught his attention, lowering his head so that it looked as though his collar had swallowed his neck.

  When they finally reached the car, Reuben looked over at him over the top of his battered corolla,

  “What was that about?” he asked with a chuckle, “you’re not scared of a little gang are ya?” he teased.

  James’ eyes were wild with panic, he wasn’t taking his joke as he’d expected, instead he yanked open the front door and got in, “let’s get out of here,” he growled, just as a figure from the group lifted a hand above his head.

  “Hey Jay Jay,” he called, as the others turned around to face them, “what the hell man! Ah can’t believe this, isn’t that Jay Jay?” the stranger continued, as he along with his crew started toward James and Reuben. Reuben didn’t move from where he stood behind the open car door, regarding the approaching squad with furrowed brows of confusion and a hint of panic. James reached over and tugged his pants.

  “Get in the car!” he hissed.

  Reuben slid behind the wheel. Those men approaching weren’t interested in cordial introductions, or an easy late night chat on a deserted sidewalk.

  He started the car and swerved out onto the road, and as they sped by, the now aggravated men pounded on the top of the car, one of them even ran after them and stomped the bumper.

  When they were a safe distance away, Reuben looked over at James, “can you tell me what just happened?” he cried.

  James merely looked out the window at the passing scenery, “it’s nothing to worry about,” he said, in that low monotone he spoke in when he was being secretive.

  Reuben glared at him in the dark car, “enough with that m
an. A gang of who knows what just kicked up my car man, and they were coming to you. That seems like something to me,” he said, pounding the steering wheel for emphasis.

  James looked over at him now, his face as blank as a mindless psych patient, “you’re right, it’s not just nothing, but am afraid it’s something I can’t reveal to you right now.”

  “What? Why? James come on!” Reuben persisted.

  James leaned back with a sigh and folded his arms across his broad chest, “it’s all about the mission,” he breathed as though it was some solemn reminder of a duty he was panicking out of, and closed his eyes, a sure sign that this discussion was over.

  Reuben, still shaking his head, turned to focus on the road, he couldn’t believe this. What was this guy getting him involved in? When he asked God for a way to make Lisa want him again, he didn’t mean running away from violent men with a mysterious ex-con sitting beside him, talking about his mission? Then again he wasn’t talking about it all.

  He sighed and glanced over at James, who was as still as the dead, in the same position he was in before. Maybe just like Reuben his test had come, and it was turning out to be a little more than he had bargained for.