The Impressionist

by Tim Clinton

  The rest of the afternoon, during the post-funeral dinner at the church, Jim Ed quietly contemplated his plan. Christina realized that something was up and it was more than just grief over losing Willie.

  “I’m so sorry about Willie,” she said. “It was such a tragic thing and I know you are hurting, Jim Ed.” She put her arm around his waist and pulled herself close. The two walked out of the fellowship hall into the yard outside. Despite the sadness all around, kids were running around playing.

  “Not that long ago Willie and I were doing the same thing,” Jim Ed said, glancing at the kids.

  “What are you thinking?” Christina asked. “It’s like you’re in another world and won’t let me in.”

  Jim Ed stared at her coldly. “My best friend was murdered, Christina. Of course I’m in another world.”

  “I’m sorry, honey,” she said caressing the back of his head with her fingers. “I just want to help you.”

  “You can help by leaving me alone!”

  “Jim Ed, I know you, and I know that’s not the real you speaking. You’re up to something and I have an uneasiness in my spirit about it.”

  As they walked, the sun began to set. Soon it would be dark and Jim Ed could move ahead with his plan. “Did you know that Willie saved my life one time?” he asked.

  “You never told me that,” said Christina.

  “Yep. He sure did. I was eleven and a bunch of us was swimming over at Miller’s bluff. We liked to jump off the bluffs into the water. The water was muddy and when I jumped my foot rammed right through this rotten log under the water. It bruised and cut my foot, but worse, my foot was stuck and the log was set deep in the mud. I flung around underwater trying to free myself, but my foot wouldn’t budge. I gave out of air thinking I was going to die, but right when I could sense my body fading out of consciousness, I felt somebody’s arm. He shook the log over and over. Finally, my foot slipped free. It was Willie. He had jumped in to rescue me. If he hadn’t done that, I would have been buried long time ago.”

  Christina didn’t say a word, but squeezed him tightly.

  “Willie deserves justice and the law is sure not going to give it to him. So somebody has to. I owe him.” When Jim Ed said that, he immediately realized he’ d given too much information.

  “Jim Ed, what are you thinking?”

  “Look, Christina, I really have to go now. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, pulling away.

  Christina jerked him back to herself. “It’s not like you to just up and leave. Something’s up and you need to tell me right now before you do something you’re gonna regret!”

  “Don’t feel like talking right now.” At that Jim Ed ripped himself out of Christina’s embrace and walked briskly toward his old truck in the field where the cars were parked. Christina followed.

  “So, you’re just going to leave me like that?”

  “I have to go. You can get a ride with your daddy.”

  “Jim Ed, I’m worried about you—about what you’re thinking of doing! No good’s going to come of it!”

  “Don’t worry, Christina, I’ve got a plan.”

  “A plan? You’ve been planning?”

  “I know what I’m doing. Sometimes a man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do. It’s that simple!”

  “Jim Ed!” she screamed through tears. “You don’t know what you’re doing! You’re not thinking right! You need to cool down!”

  “Oh, I’m perfectly aware of what I’m doing.”

  “Listen to me! You can’t fight evil with evil! Evil will win every time.”

  “Well your God sure doesn’t do anything! That’s for sure! Where’s the justice for Willie? Answer that. Why didn’t God do something?”

  “God didn’t kill Willie, Jim Ed, an evil man did!”

  Christina latched onto Jim Ed’s arm and jerked him to a stop. He looked down at her indifferently. “Jim Ed,” she pleaded in desperation. “You can’t do this. Please, if you love me. You won’t do this! Please…for me.”

  By now, others in the church yard had turned to see the commotion they were making. With thoughts of Willie in his mind, Jim Ed simply turned back toward his truck. Christina released her grip and took her engagement locket from her neck.

  “Here,” she said in a whisper. “I can’t marry you. If this is the man you are, if this is who you’ve become, then I won’t marry you.” The locket fell from her hands into his. She collapsed to her knees and sobbed. Jim Ed opened the truck door, slid inside, and drove away.

  19

  Jim Ed’s story was like watching a movie or reading a novel. Though my neck and shoulders were beginning to get stiff, I wasn’t moving until the man painting my portrait finished his story.

  Grinding the gears on his truck, Jim Ed sped away toward his Mama’s house. Once there, he jumped out, darted up the steps, through the screen door, and pulled out of a pillow case the old Smith & Wesson revolver handed down to him from his father. Lewis lived alone in the woods about five miles outside of town. The plan was to park his truck some distance away, hide out in the woods and wait as long as it took. When Jim Ed was sure no one else was around he would go up to his house and confront him face to face and take justice into his own hands. He couldn’t just shoot Lewis from a distance. It had to be up close and personal. Jim Ed wanted him to see his pain. He wanted to, he needed to, watch him suffer. Lewis had to pay for what he had done to Willie.

  As Jim Ed sped along, he was bent on killing Lewis; but then, totally unexpected, in a split second, something happened that could only be described as a miracle. When he left the church, nothing was changing his mind, not even his beloved Christina. Yet as he turned on the gravel road that led to Lewis’ place, a light shone on Jim Ed. A strange and awful uneasiness came over him and then a Voice spoke from deep inside his core, “If you do this, Jim Ed, your life is over. There’s a better way. This is a turning point for you.” The inner Voice was so strong it seemed almost audible. Jim Ed couldn’t explain it other than God because he knew it wasn’t coming from him. He hadn’t been thinking like that. The Voice was contrary to his state of mind. It was clear—he had the power to choose, and that choice would determine his destiny.

  His whole body began to tremble and his heartbeat became rapid. Sweat oozed from his pores. Jim Ed slowed down and eased the truck off to the side of the road. Parked there, he gazed down at Christina’s locket lying on the seat next to him while the words she’ d spoken over the past year came flooding into his mind. He adjusted the rearview mirror so he could better see himself.

  “Jim Ed, look at what you are becoming,” the Voice said. “You were willing to hurt Christina and your family, possibly endanger them and go to jail or get killed, just to satisfy your rage. Is this what Willie would want if he were alive? Is this what you really want?”

  At that moment, right there in the truck, the fog lifted and Jim Ed’s mind became crystal clear. The light was on. The darkness was revealed and dispelled and he knew that Christina was right. God’s grace poured over him, washing him, filling his soul with peace. A plan was laid out before him. Yes, it was his duty to fight the terrible injustice and evil of prejudice, but not by responding with aggression and violence. Getting even with Lewis would only bring judgment on him and his family.

  Jim Ed had to turn his anger over to God and somehow, with God’s strength, fight evil with the power of good, by becoming the best man he could, developing his faculties and striving to be the man God made him to be—a warrior fighting injustice by proving they were wrong and by making progress despite the struggle. That is what he would be held responsible for. He would become the man God created him to be, for Willie’s sake, for Christina’s, and for himself.

  Jim Ed’s head dropped down on the steering wheel and he wept. He wept hard, long heaves, emptying himself. “God,” he cried. “Take me and all my hate! If You are really who Christina says You are, then please forgive me and fill me with strength to fight and help me do the right thing!�
�� He opened the revolver’s cylinder, dumped the bullets in his hand, and tossed them out the window. When the bullets left his hand, Jim Ed released a long, drawn-out sigh of relief and it felt as if a ten-ton weight had been lifted off his back. He turned the truck around and headed back to the church.

  On the way, Jim Ed met Mr. Kenyon and Bo who were racing to find him to try and talk some sense into him. They pulled their vehicles side by side. Through wet eyes, Jim Ed explained to them his experience and was now headed back to the church cemetery and then on to see Christina.

  “It was the Holy Spirit, son,” said Mr. Kenyon. “As soon as Christina told us you’ d gone, everybody at the church gathered and prayed that God would intervene. I believe He did.”

  Back at the church cemetery, it was dark and Jim Ed stood beside Willie’s grave alone among the flowers, red clay, and mosquitoes. “Willie, my brother,” he said. “I’m sorry for letting you down and for not covering your back. Please forgive me. You know that I want justice for you with all my heart, but I’m seeing that the best justice I can give is to fight this thing with goodness and being the man God made me to be. I promise you, Willie, I will live this life for the both of us and make you real proud. I promise. I will see you later, brother. That’s a promise too.”

  When he turned into Christina’s driveway that night after visiting Willie’s grave, she was waiting for him on the front porch swing. She had heard the news from her daddy. The moment she saw him she flew off the porch to meet him. Leaning against the truck, they held each other tightly. Then Jim Ed took the locket out of his pocket and slid it back over her head. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you today. I was wrong, and I never want to treat you like that again.”

  “I’m so proud of you, Jim Ed,” Christina said through tears of joy.

  Jim Ed pulled her face close to his. “You have to help me do this, Christina. Help me to fight the good fight and be the man God made me to be. I can’t do it without you.”

  “We’re a team. You and me and the Lord. ‘A threefold cord is not quickly broken,’ Ecclesiastes 4:12. We’re going to make it.”

  “You’re an incredible woman, Christina,” Jim Ed said, gently kissing her lips.

  It was a defining moment for him.

  20

  Jim Ed’s powerful story left me feeling moved with respect for him and a longing for a life partner like he had with Christina. My eyes were opened to what could be between me and Paige. It would take God’s help, a miracle perhaps, but it was now something I knew I wanted and was willing to fight for.

  Following the incident, Jim Ed laid low for a while because he knew the cops were watching him. Fortunately, he started his job in Jackson less than two weeks later and he never saw Lewis again. That is, until nearly a half century later. Lewis tracked Jim Ed down using the Internet and asked if they could meet. At first Jim Ed didn’t want to have anything to do with him. He had no desire to reopen old wounds, but Christina convinced Jim Ed it was the right thing to do, that it was what Christ would do. The two men met one afternoon at the very park where he and Adam were now.

  Jim Ed was not prepared for what he saw—a man who had lived an entire life filled with regret, eaten alive by bitterness and guilt. Lewis was thin and frail and wheelchair-bound. His skin had a yellowish-pale tint, and he couldn’t breathe without the aid of an oxygen tank. His daughter, Lydia, who had accompanied him, pushed his wheelchair to the bench and then waited in a rental car while he and Jim Ed talked. What got Jim Ed the most, though, were Lewis’ eyes—eyes filled with absolute terror. Lewis was a dying man who was extremely afraid.

  “Mr. Porter,” Lewis said, his entire body trembling as he sucked in prolonged breaths of oxygen between sentences. “I don’t know how to say this, but I am sincerely sorry for what happened that day. I was young and foolish. I’ve prayed thousands of times for God’s forgiveness over the years,” he continued, “but it would mean so much if somehow you could find it in your heart to forgive me. I’m a dying man who wants to make things right so I can have a bit of peace before I go.”

  After all those years of putting the incident behind him and moving on with his life, Jim Ed felt the anger beginning to rise up inside him again. Just seeing Lewis’ face, even though it was now withered and creased, brought the past fully and painfully into the present. “It’s not me that you need to be asking for forgiveness, but God and Willie. He’s the one you murdered in cold blood. And you got away with it!”

  “I’ve been to Willie’s grave countless times,” Lewis responded. “I’ve asked him to forgive me over and over. I’ve asked God for forgiveness so many times…but can never get any peace in my heart. That’s why I’ve come to you. You would know what Willie would do. Would he forgive me? I need to know. Can you forgive me? Maybe if you can, then I’ll believe that Willie can and God can.”

  “You talk about making things right,” said Jim Ed. “Well what about Willie, Lewis? He didn’t have a chance to make things right or to have a bit of peace before he went. He didn’t even have time to pray to God like you did.” Jim Ed raised his voice and spoke forcefully. “But I can assure you of this; Willie is in Heaven, and he is at peace!” He wagged his finger in Lewis’ face. “And to tell you the truth, I don’t know what Willie would do. Do you realize how much pain you caused? The dreams you snuffed out? If you are so set on making things right, I’ll drive you to the police station and you can turn yourself in! How about that?” Tears were streaming down Lewis’ face. “I’ll tell you something else I bet you didn’t know. I came within a trigger’s breath of killing you.” Lewis looked up at Jim Ed somewhat taken aback. “Yes, that’s right. Don’t look so surprised. I got my pistol; put it in my truck, and after Willie’s funeral drove out to your old place with the full intention of putting a bullet through your skull.”

  “Why didn’t you?” Lewis struggled. “You should have. It would have saved me a lot of misery. Believe me, not a day goes by that I don’t relive what I did. Sometimes I lay awake all night long as the scene from that day replays over and over in my mind like a broken record that I can’t turn off! If I could go back and make things right I would. I was wrong. We were wrong. No one deserved to be treated like that.”

  “You know why I didn’t kill you that day?” said Jim Ed. “Because I realized that if I would have shot you, I would have ended up just like you, eaten alive with bitterness and guilt my whole life, only to end up old and pathetic, full of regret, just like you are now! You know what? You got exactly what you deserved—a life of misery!” After he said that, Jim Ed turned and walked away.

  “No!” Lewis cried out through a rasping cough. “Please,” he coughed again, “don’t leave!”

  Jim Ed could hear him wheezing for breath and when he turned around, he noticed that Lewis’ breathing tube had fallen out and was lying on the ground. Lewis was leaning forward in his wheelchair clawing frantically for it but couldn’t reach it. Jim Ed walked over to him, picked it up, and handed it to him. Lewis shoved it back into his nostrils and sucked in a long extended gasp of oxygen.

  “Listen to me, please,” he said, grabbing hold of Jim Ed’s arm. Sweat had beaded up on his brow and his whole body was shaking. “Everything happened so fast that day. You’ve got to believe me. I picked up that hubcap without even thinking. I never intended to kill him! His death was an accident! An accident, I tell you! If I’ d been thinking right, I never would’ve done it!” Lewis clutched his breathing tube so it would not dislodge, and coughed again. “Have you ever been overtaken by rage, Mr. Porter? If you have, then you know how crazy a person can get in a matter of seconds. You just go mad and do stupid things.”

  Lewis’ words caused Jim Ed to stiffen up. Yes, he knew all too well that rage he was talking about. It had dominated so many years of his life, and Jim Ed also knew that under the right circumstances it could have been him instead of Lewis pleading for forgiveness. The only reason it was not was because of grace. It wasn’t that Jim Ed was somehow a
better man, but grace, pure and simple—the grace of God and of loving people surrounding him, encouraging him, praying for him—the grace of God’s light shining upon him and the grace to recognize the truth before acting out. Something shifted in Jim Ed. He felt a measure of grace to release his anger and choose to forgive.

  Jim Ed’s eyes, now compassionate and warm, fell square onto Lewis’. “I forgive you,” he said. “And I know God will forgive you too. The Bible says, ‘The Lord is compassionate and gracious and does not treat us as our sins deserve. He knows how we are formed. He remembers that we are dust.’ Christ died for you too, Lewis.” The moment those words came out of Jim Ed’s mouth, Lewis exhaled as if a thousand-pound weight had been lifted from his back. “I believe Willie forgives you too,” Jim Ed said, knowing in his soul it was true, that Willie would have, or had already, forgiven him.

  Tears still trickling down his face; with a wobbly hand, Lewis took Jim Ed’s and squeezed. “Thank you,” he said. “You will never know how much this means.”

  “I think I have an idea,” said Jim Ed.

  “I’m not sure how much time I have left on this earth, Mr. Porter,” Lewis said, “a year, a month, perhaps only a few days, but I’m going to make the most of it. I want to find out what God would have of me and then do it.”

  “Just love the people God puts in your life, Lewis. Love them with the same grace that God has shown you.” Jim Ed’s words were few as he pushed Lewis toward his car. Lydia met them halfway. Jim Ed continued with them to the car, where they said a very stiff goodbye and Lewis was on his way. He died almost one month later.

  21

  “But what about justice?” I blurted out. “Lewis got away with murder, or at the least manslaughter! Shouldn’t he be held responsible?”

  “Yes, he should have. Forgiveness doesn’t mean sweeping offenses under a rug and forgetting, nor does it means there will be no consequences,” said Jim Ed, sitting back down on his stool. “It’s a choice to release and let go. I’m not saying that justice is not important and should not be pursued. Thank God for justice and law. If there were no consequences to wrongdoing, then society would be even more chaotic. Yes, justice and sufficient punishment are essential. And it’s important to grieve fully and feel the anger. However, people can get to the point where the anger and bitterness and the need for justice is enslaving and will destroy them and their relationships. Forgiveness, on the other hand, has little to do with justice and is as much for the person doing the forgiving as it is for the one needing forgiveness. Forgiveness is not only for murder, but everyday relationships.”