April 1968
Once again sadness has stretched its tentacles into our meager existence. Olivia came with news today of the death of one Martin Luther King, Jr., a preacher to hear her tell it. A man who sought to unite those who have been divided for so very long. I believe Olivia is as grieved as I have ever seen her. I know not how to console her or her granddaughter who has come for help and company. I remember her coming before, but she was a young child then. Rambunctious. Now there is a dark hatred in her eyes, a restless willfulness that I do not remember harboring at her age. I believe the world has gone on to another place without me. Oh, that I should be rescued from this veil of sorrows, this thing we call life though it so often feels more like death.
July 21 1969
A man on the moon. Olivia says everyone is talking about it in town. Such a time to be alive. The moon feels so very far away. Tony would never have believed this day.
August 26 1975
If the good Lord was so good, he would give us some rest from this unbearable heat. I can hardly stand to be inside, and outside is worse. They say it is hot in hell. I believe today hell has visited North Carolina.
Dani laughed. A little wit in the litany of life’s trials. She wondered about her grandmother. Was she still alive by this point? 1975. She didn’t remember the dates on the tombstone her mother had insisted they go see when she was… what? Eleven or so. Back then, these people were merely shadows with no connection whatsoever to her. Now she dearly wished she had paid attention.
Yawning, she looked at the clock and knew she should turn in. Tomorrow was Sunday, a day of rest for everyone else. But not for her. If they were to push this case forward, they needed to be ready to go Monday morning.
She closed the diary and laid it on the nightstand, making sure it was secure. With the light out, she settled in and thought of Hazel and all the changes her life had brought. Yet somehow, walled off in Attabury, she had missed seeing them all. That thought saddened Dani. A life with so much promise and potential, cocooned in from the world, to live and die never seeing any of it. A surely beautiful butterfly never given the chance to fly.
Somehow, prior to now, she never would have viewed old Mrs. Attabury that way. Instead, she had always pictured her as a crotchety old woman who had a quick, harsh word for everyone. Her mind slipped and slid over the narrative in the words of the diary. The young daughter of Olivia… no. Granddaughter…
Dani stopped the thoughts, puzzled as the word went through her and stuck on her heart. She resettled, thinking into the thought. Olivia, her own great grandmother. Patrice, Ms. P, would have been Olivia’s daughter. That made…
Like a shot, she was up again and in only a second she had the light on and the book in hand. If Olivia’s daughter was her own grandmother, then that made the young daughter… With shaking hands, she found the passage again.
April 1968
Once again sadness has stretched its tentacles into our meager existence. Olivia came with news today of the death of one Martin Luther King, Jr., a preacher to hear her tell it. A man who sought to unite those who have been divided for so very long. I believe Olivia is as grieved as I have ever seen her. I know not how to console her or her granddaughter who has come for help and company. I remember her coming before, but she was a young child then. Rambunctious. Now there is a dark hatred in her eyes, a restless willfulness that I do not remember harboring at her age. I believe the world has gone on to another place without me. Oh, that I should be rescued from this veil of sorrows, this thing we call life though it so often feels more like death.
Dani sat back, the passage still open. She read it again. Olivia, her grandmother, a black woman from the South who surely knew of the turbulence going on in the world outside of Attabury. But to Mrs. Attabury, the world might as well have been the moon, it was as removed a place as that. To live at that time and not know Martin Luther King Jr.?
Of course, she couldn’t. It wasn’t like in 1968 Mrs. Attabury could pull up one of his speeches on YouTube, listen to the cadence and lit as he proclaimed that one day his children would not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. She wondered what Mrs. Attabury would think of that, of hearing those iconic words. Dani’s spirit surged forward, and she whipped the covers off her legs, stepped across the room and grabbed up her laptop. Crawling back onto the bed on the small heap of blankets, she fired the thing up and did a quick search. In barely seconds she was listening to the immortal words, words that once spoken would ring out through the centuries to touch, to inspire, to prick the conscience of a nation mired in shameful oppression.
In the darkness, Dani marveled at the throng of tiny specks, thousands of people gathered to listen to the preacher from Georgia, to hear him talk not only of a future they could barely imagine but also of a past in a country that had fought for its own freedom all those years before.
Freedom.
It was such a nebulous term. Of course, she had heard it, knew the dictionary definition of it. She had even done a paper in high school on historical figures who had fought for the freedom of their peoples—Mahatma Gandhi, Fredrick Douglass, Harriet Tubman, and yes, even Martin Luther King Jr. though he’d merited only a few sentences because the paper got too long.
Freedom. The drumbeat of the human heart, yearning to be untethered from the chains of a society that would hold it down.
Freedom. A God-given right to pursue whatever made your heart glad and alive.
Freedom. To live and worship and love and be whatever God made you to be.
Then as she listened to Dr. King’s words, her heart jumped on one line. Quickly she played it back again.
“I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.”
It wasn’t the red hills of Georgia, but black and white had sat down together at a table of brotherhood, over pizza and lasagna and enchiladas and friendships many times, in the Land of the Sky, birthplace of flight. None other than the land of her own birth, North Carolina. Her mind crossed over the picture of them, Eric and Caleb working side-by-side to rebuild and maybe even reinvent the past, to restore a house to glory or maybe to give it new birth.
She thought of Jaden, playing with Rhett, Natalie and the others. No one, save for her, had so much as questioned her daughter’s inclusion. She thought of her own grandmother then, a black woman who attended not the church of her people across town going toward Greely, but…
Only then did Dani pause to question that. Sure, there were now others that attended the little church, but her grandmother had gone to that church for as long as she could remember. Flipping backward and forward in the diary, she looked for an answer though she knew she wouldn’t find it. What church had her great grandmother attended, and why would they choose to go to that church rather than their own?
The words in her startled her. Their own? What did that mean? Why was one church ‘their own’ and the other somehow… not? Even now?
Listening to the end of the speech even as questions screeched through her troubled soul, Dani wondered if she would ever know. Or was the answer forever lost to the shifting sands of history?
“There is a calling on your life,” Pastor Steve said from the pulpit when everyone had sat down on Sunday morning in the little North Carolina church with the sunlight streaming in through the stained glass windows. “Let me say that again. There is a calling on your life.
“God has set and ordained something in each one of us that is unique and immortal. It is a sacred calling that He sent you here to accomplish. Something that no one else who ever was or ever will be can do and accomplish just the way you can. Before you were born, in your mother’s womb, God etched His dream for you on your heart, He wove it into your soul, and then at your birth, He launched it into the world. Yes, our hope is in Him, but in many ways, His hope lies in you. You are the channel
He sent into this world to be a beacon, showing others what He can do in a life surrendered to Him.
“Now, don’t misunderstand me. This is not easy. In fact, surrendering to God and God’s call on your life may well be one of the most difficult things you will ever do because it will require some things of you. First, it will require courage. The courage to stand up to those things and people in your life that would knock you off-track if you let them. The courage to stay true to what God is telling you and calling you to no matter what the world says about it. The courage to be real in a world that traffics in broken souls and fake smiles.”
When the pastor smiled slightly, Eric was quite sure there were five others in the crowd doing just the same.
“God is calling you to not be one of those. His desire for you is good things, even in the midst of the evil and trials that come your way. His desire for you is peace, even in the middle of the storms. His desire for you is love, yes, to come your way but more over to go out from Him, into you, and then through you and into the world. Make no mistake about this. He wants to change the world through you.
“Do you get that? Do you understand the depth and the breadth and the unimaginable height of the calling He has put on your life? Or are you content to play it small, to try to get through the day, pay a few bills and get home to watch some television because you’re so tired?
“Now I don’t pretend to know what calling He has put on your heart. It might be to cross the street and bring a casserole to your neighbor who’s been ill. It might be to open your house to a child in need. It might be to dig a well in Africa, thereby unleashing the potential that is bound up in the necessity of walking five miles to get the water they need to survive every day. It might be being the best parent you can be and encouraging and inspiring your children to find their own calling in life.”
Looking down at Jaden, Eric’s heart nearly burst at the thought. Feeling the importance of that particular calling, he swung his arm up and over her head to gather her in. At first, she looked wary of the gesture, but after only a second or two she scrunched closer to him and laid her little hand on his leg. He closed his eyes on the sight, sure his heart really would crack right open.
“I challenge you tonight to go outside and look at the stars,” the pastor said. “Really look at them. There are billions of stars, all shining, all reflecting God’s love back to us, telling us of His immensity and showing us His love. When you look at them, realize that God didn’t make just one star. He made many, many stars, not so they could compete with each other, not so they could preen and prance to prove how much better they were than the others. He made those stars, all of them, to shine. To be what He created them to be, and He set them up there in the sky to inspire us to expand our horizons, to teach us to dream bigger than the world says is possible.
“Out there, in the vastness of space and time, we see what’s possible, what God can do, His amazing power to set universes into motion and to put our lives back on track. Today, I want you to take some time to think about your calling in this world. What is unique to you, in you, in your heart? Maybe it is born of tough experiences. Maybe it was once inside you, inspired by another in your life but has since been covered up with the merely urgent matters of the day.
“What inspires you? What makes you feel alive? What desire has God put on your heart that if you so choose to follow it could change the world for the better?
“Today. Right now. I want you to both name that and claim it. Start the journey, not forward to it, but back to it, back to what God etched in you all those years ago.” He paused. “Let us stand.”
Chapter 23
After the service, Eric was immersed in talking with Caleb and Luke as he made his way down the aisle.
“Daddy, can I go play with Rhett today?” Jaden begged, tugging on his hand. “Please!”
Eric was split between conversations for one second longer than he realized, and suddenly he and Jaden were face-to-face with none other than Ms. P, Dani’s grandmother.
The old woman smiled at them like a warm ray of sunshine. “Well, well, if it isn’t Eric.” Her gaze fell to the child no longer tugging on his hand but now hiding behind his pantleg. “And Jaden, beautiful child.”
“Well, hello,” he said formally even as the others moved on with a small wave from Caleb. “I… It’s been a while.”
“That it has, child. That it has.” A moment and she looked around them in puzzlement. “Is Danisha not with you today?”
“What? Oh. No. She… had business… in Scotland.”
“Scotland?” Her face lit up in surprise and delight. “Who would ever have believed that? My granddaughter, an international lawyer.”
He wasn’t sure that was the full term for it, but he chose not to correct her.
“So, are you all working out at the Attabury house?”
“We are. It’s coming along nicely. You should come see it sometime.”
She smiled softly. “I would like that. Been a long time since I was in that old place.” A moment of reflection and she regained her smile. Then something else crossed her face. “I know you are both very busy, but do you have plans for lunch?”
“Lunch?” Panic lit through him.
“Yes. Lunch. You have to eat, right?”
It took everything in him to recover. “Right. Yes. Right. We have to eat.”
Although the groundwork was laid for the invitation, it did not come immediately. “Well, if you would like and you have the time, I… I have a casserole in my oven just waiting for some hungry mouths to show up.” When she smiled, it spoke of hope and knowing that hope would be dashed. “You all wouldn’t want to join me now, would you?”
“Hey.” Her brother’s voice Sunday as Dani sat in Blair’s office, writing out the case she would present the next day did nothing to set her unbalanced heart on solid ground.
“Hey,” she said, her pencil slowing on the worry. “What’s up?”
The pause slowed her pencil even further. “Have you heard from Mom?”
“Mom? No. I haven’t heard from Mom. I’ve been in meetings. I’m in Scotland, you know? Not a lot of time for drama and chit-chat.”
This pause made her stop completely.
“Why? What’s going on?”
When his words finally started it was like they were being dragged out of him at the point of a gun. “Dad just called. They went to Mexico, and I guess it’s official now. They’re married.”
Abject horror smashed into her. “Married? Dad and Celeste?”
“Yeah.” He let out a breath. “I figured one of them would probably have called you by now.”
Dread layered over the horror. “Does Mom know?”
“I don’t know.”
It was impossible not to notice the tiny, rundown houses that lined the street Eric turned on to get to Ms. P’s house. She had said it was at the end of the block, and what a block it was. Not a single house looked more than just livable. They were small, that was true, but what was even truer was that every one had visible damage. The ones on the north more so, but the ones on the south had not been spared either.
Broken windows, some boarded, some not. Fences that looked as if they simply got tired and were trying to take naps. Trim and siding shredded, cracked, and peeling. The sight was depressing enough, but the layer of humanity in crisis was worse. In some of the yards, people milled about. A couple in one driveway were trying to repair a car that was up on blocks. Some kids were playing a rousing game of basketball, the street being their court. Eric averted his eyes from them as they stopped and stared at him as he passed by. Now he knew why Dani had avoided coming here, and he wasn’t sure she wasn’t right in doing so.
One number at time, Dani dialed her mother. Just what she would find on the other end, she had no idea. When the connection clicked into place, she wound her arms in front of her and willed her own tears down. “Hi, Mom.”
“Dani,” her mother said in a quasi-panic. “Are y
ou all right?”
“I’m fine, Mom. Fine. Uh, I had to take a trip to Scotland to work on the project for Drake. I hope you haven’t called.” She let her gaze go up to the ceiling, pleading for help though she knew she was on her own with this one.
“No. And you haven’t called me either. I was getting worried.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. Things have been a little crazy around here.” She let out an inaudible breath, knowing she could not avoid the conversation now. If she didn’t say something and her mother found out later that she had known… “Uh, listen, Mom. Mitchell just called.”
“Mitchell? Is he all right? Did they find out about Kim’s new job?”
“Kim’s new…?” Dani’s thoughts started spiraling, and she did not know how to catch them. “No. Mom. We didn’t talk about that. Listen, Mitchell called to tell me about Dad.”
“Your father?”
“Yes,” she said slowly, wishing with everything in her that something would happen to stave off the inevitable. An earthquake maybe. Did they have earthquakes in Scotland? She didn’t know, but she wished for one just the same. “And Celeste.”
“What about that home wrecker? What could I possibly need to know about her?”
The tears stung Dani’s eyes and throat. Why was she the one who had to deliver this blow? “Mom, they got married this weekend.”
Dead silence met the proclamation. Dead and utter silence.
“They… did what?” her mother asked, her voice going deathly hollow.
Dani nodded to get the words going. “They got married. Dad called Mitchell a while ago to tell him.”
“And you?” her mother asked.
“No,” Dani said. “He didn’t call me.”
“I see.”
“I’m so sorry, Mom.”
Raising Attabury: A Contemporary Christian Epic-Novel (The Grace Series Book 5) Page 32
