Hidden History

by Melody Carlson

  “Did you like the sermon?” Louise asked no one in particular as they walked back to the inn.

  “It was sort of interesting,” said Susan. “I’ve heard that Bible story before—I think when I was a child and went to church with my grandparents—but I guess I never really gave it much serious thought. Or else I thought it was really about seeds and growing things.”

  “I know the parable is supposed to be about faith,” said Mark, “but I think it could also be applied to things like truth or knowledge. Those things won’t grow unless they are planted in fertile soil.”

  “I never thought of that,” said Jane. “But that does make sense.”

  “It does,” agreed Alice. “Although I think Jesus wanted us to consider it in regard to faith. If you think about it, faith is a much harder concept to understand than knowledge or truth.”

  “You’re right about that,” said Mark as they reached the house. “It took me years to figure that out.”

  Alice turned and looked at him in astonishment. “You mean you finally figured it out?”

  He laughed. “Well, to be honest I’m not sure that I’ll ever completely figure it out. Let’s just say that I accept it as a part of my life now.”

  “Yes,” said Susan in what seemed to be a mock-serious voice. “Mark became religious a few years back.”

  “I don’t like to think of it as religious,” he said as they walked up the steps to the porch, “as much as having a relationship with God.”

  Alice was amazed. “How did this happen?”

  “Would anyone like some lemonade or tea?” offered Jane. “It’s so nice out here that I thought we might like to sit on the porch for a bit.” Orders were taken and Alice offered to help, but Louise told her to stay put.

  “You can keep Susan and Mark company,” she said.

  “So tell me how this happened,” said Alice after they were seated.

  Mark leaned back in the wicker rocker, and in the same instant, Wendell hopped into his lap.

  “That’s Wendell,” said Alice. “Do you mind?”

  Mark smiled as he petted the purring cat. “Of course not. Did you forget that these guys are my buddies?”

  Alice laughed. “Wendell must not know that about you yet. He can’t stand the veterinarian.”

  “That’s probably because he experiences pain with each visit. That trains a lot of animals to hate going to the vet. It’s different in my work since I usually make house calls—or zoo calls.”

  “But back to what you were saying,” said Alice, still bursting with curiosity. “What brought about this change in you, Mark? I remember back when we were … uh, friends … that you didn’t want to have anything to do with religion or church.”

  “That’s true. As I’m sure you recall, I thought it was a ridiculous waste of time, not to mention a sure way to kill brain cells. I was convinced that Christianity was an antiquated cultural oddity and only suitable for people who needed a crutch to lean on.” He smiled. “Problem was, there came a time in my own life when I needed a crutch myself.”

  “Was that when you had your heart attack?” asked Susan.

  He nodded. “Yes. At the time I really thought I was going to die, and I must admit it scared me. I had no idea what would come afterward. A good friend from the zoo helped get me to the hospital, and he prayed for me as he drove what felt like about eighty miles an hour through heavy traffic. I thought the drive alone was enough to kill us both. Yet there was something strangely soothing about his prayer. Chuck stayed with me during my entire ordeal, and then he came back to visit the next day. Well, I knew he was a Christian—he’d never made any secret of that—and I decided that I wanted to hear more about his faith. Naturally, he was happy to share. He brought me a couple of books to read during my recovery. When I was released from the hospital, he took me home and presented me with a Bible before he left. ‘Investigate this for yourself,’ he challenged me. ‘God will never be intimidated by your questions.’”

  “That’s true enough,” said Alice.

  Jane and Louise came back, depositing a tray with drinks as well as a nice selection of chocolates and biscotti.

  “Don’t let us interrupt you,” said Jane as she sat down next to Alice.

  “I was almost done,” said Mark. “So I started reading that Bible and it was the strangest thing, but it started making sense to me. I suppose that was God planting a seed of faith in my heart, like the one your pastor described today. Then I began attending church with Chuck, and finally about a month after my heart attack I gave my faulty heart to God.”

  “That is wonderful,” said Louise.

  “It really is,” agreed Alice.

  “He never even told me about his conversion for a year or so,” said Susan.

  Mark shrugged. “I guess I wanted to make sure it was absolutely for real.”

  “And you really think it is?” Susan looked skeptical.

  “It’s been nearly five years,” said Mark. “It’s been real the whole time.”

  She just shook her head.

  Mark continued. “Susie and I were raised in a somewhat atheistic home. Oh, our parents never used that word exactly, but they were quick to put down religion as some sort of weakness. They felt that anyone involved in church must have a serious defect or a character flaw.”

  “Goodness,” said Louise, “how sad.”

  “They didn’t like it when our grandparents tried to take us to church,” admitted Susan. “I thought that was kind of weird. I would never do that to my children. As a matter of fact, Katy has just started going to church. Did you know that, Mark?”

  He smiled. “Actually, she started going to my church.”

  Susan shook her head. “Yeah, it figures. Oh well, to each his own.”

  The group began breaking up, but before Alice could leave, Mark asked her if she would give him a tour of the town.

  “Sure, if you’d like. I warn you that there’s not much to see, and a lot of things are closed on Sundays.”

  “That’s okay. I’m just curious about the town,” he said.

  They strolled through the streets of Acorn Hill, and Alice told him who lived in each house and who ran what business, pointing out anything of interest that happened to cross their path. Mark showed genuine interest and slowly Alice found herself becoming more and more relaxed with him. She began to remember why it was she had liked him so well nearly forty years before. But these thoughts she kept strictly to herself. Finally they found themselves back at the inn.

  “I’ve had such a great time,” he told her as he glanced at his wristwatch. “But I’d better start heading back to the city now.” He grinned. “Believe it or not, I’m an usher for the Sunday night services at my church.”

  “Hey, bro,” called Susan as she came down the stairs lugging her bags, “give me a hand here.”

  “You checking out too?” he asked.

  “Yeah, Tom is supposed to be home around five. I better get there ahead of him so I can do some damage control.”

  “You mean that sweet little grandson of yours—”

  “Please,” she said. “Don’t get me going. I’ve had such a nice, restful week, I don’t want to send my blood pressure soaring again.”

  He laughed as he carried her bags to the front door. “Well, I guess this is good-bye,” he said. “I’ve already loaded my bags into my car, and I settled my bill with Louise yesterday.”

  “Are you leaving already?” asked Jane as she came down the stairs.

  “Yes, we both need to get back to the city,” said Mark. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you and staying at your delightful inn.” He turned to Alice. “Be sure and tell Louise good-bye for us too.”

  “I certainly will.”

  He smiled and glanced around the room. “I honestly feel as though I have traveled back in time here. I can see why you ladies love this little town.”

  “It’s home,” said Alice almost apologetically.

  He nodded. “Lu
cky for you. Now you ladies take care.”

  “You too,” said Alice.

  “Drive carefully,” called Jane as Susan and Mark walked to their cars.

  To her complete surprise, Alice suddenly felt a lump growing in her throat. She turned and looked at Jane with wide eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Jane. “Are you okay?”

  Alice nodded. “I think I’m just tired.”

  Jane rubbed Alice’s back in a gentle circle. “Poor Alice. You’ve had a long tiring weekend. Maybe you should go take a nap. I feel bad to think that your work week will be starting tomorrow. I’m afraid your time off hasn’t been terribly restful.”

  Alice thought Jane was exactly right about that. With weary legs, she climbed the two flights of stairs and collapsed on her bed and sighed and just waited.

  No, she thought, she was not going to cry this time. That would be silly and childish and totally uncalled for. At the same time she did feel strangely disturbed and unsettled. She was not exactly sure why. Finally, she decided that she was simply overreacting to everything that had happened during the last few days. She reminded herself of Mark’s wonderful conversion story. She decided it was time to thank God for yet another answered prayer. Indeed, it was a prayer she had been diligently praying for forty years. It had been a long time coming, but Mark Graves had finally made it out of the wilderness.

  Glory be to God!

  Chapter Thirteen

  Vera’s recovery from her mystery illness turned out to be short-lived. By Wednesday she was sick again, had missed another day of school and was more depressed than ever. All the results of her tests were negative.

  “That’s the good news,” she told Alice that evening when Alice dropped by with a casserole, compliments of Jane. “The bad news is I’m right back where I started. I’m only able to hold down a bit of tea and a slice of dry toast now and then. The rest of the time I feel rotten. I’m so sick of this, Alice.” Tears flooded Vera’s eyes.

  “Oh, Vera, I’m so sorry.” Alice patted her arm.

  Vera ran her hand through her limp hair. “I almost think it’d be better to just find out that I had cancer and get it over with. Do the treatment or whatever. I know that must sound pitiful, but that’s how I’m starting to feel.”

  “I wish there was something I could do,” said Alice.

  Vera smiled wearily. “Keep praying.”

  Alice nodded. “Speaking of praying, I have a wonderful story to tell you, but I’ll have to save it for another time. I’ve got ANGELs tonight.” She reached over and squeezed Vera’s hand. “I’ll remind the ANGELs to pray for you especially hard this week.”

  Vera returned Alice’s squeeze. “I appreciate it.”

  The ANGELs all promised to keep Vera Humbert in their prayers. Naturally they knew her, since they had had her as their fifth grade teacher. And it came as no surprise to Alice that they still loved her dearly and were eager to pray for her speedy and full recovery.

  “Can we give our quilt to her?” asked Ashley Moore as she traced a diamond pattern onto some moss-green fabric.

  “That would be nice,” said Alice as she showed Sarah Roberts how to use the cutting wheel. “But remember, we all agreed to raffle it off at the Fall Festival.” She crossed her two forefingers, their secret code for “don’t tell,” then said, “The proceeds are supposed to go to the Helping Hands ministry, remember?”

  “That’s right.” Sarah nodded, and as if reciting a Scripture verse, she said, “It’s going to go for people who need help with food and clothing and paying their electric bills.”

  “Yes. What Mrs. Humbert really needs most of all right now is our prayers,” said Alice.

  “But all we have here is a pile of pretty scraps,” said Ashley. “I can’t believe that we’ll really be able to get this quilt done in time for the Fall Festival.”

  “I guess it’s a matter of faith,” said Alice, “and hard work. Besides, Ms. Songer has promised help if we need it.”

  “I think we’re going to need it,” said Jenny Snyder as she cut a pumpkin-colored rectangle. “This is taking forever.”

  “But it’s going to be so beautiful,” said Ashley. “I’ll bet we make a thousand dollars.”

  “No way,” said Jenny. “No one would pay a thousand dollars for a quilt.”

  “If they were rich, they would,” Ashley insisted.

  “And generous,” said Alice with a smile. “But Jenny’s probably right. A thousand dollars is a bit much for a quilt.”

  “Too bad,” said Ashley. “That would probably buy a whole lot of food for a needy family.”

  By the end of the night they were nearly finished with their cutting, and Alice told the girls she would finish up at home what little was left.

  “And we get to start sewing next week?” said Jenny. “I’ve always wanted to learn to sew.”

  Alice nodded. “Yes, Ms. Songer is going to get us going on it. But before we go, let’s pray.”

  Alice was touched that every single ANGEL prayed for Vera. When they were done, each promised, once again, to keep praying for her until she got completely well.

  “Now, that’s what I call real faith,” Alice told them as the meeting ended.

  Alice wondered where her workweek had gone when she finished her half-day on Thursday. She had been so worn out from the week’s flurry of activities that the past few days had been a bit of a blur. And then, to Alice’s disappointment, she and her sisters had been unable to coordinate their schedules and get together to read from her father’s journal. First, Jane had gone out with Sylvia Songer on Monday night. Then on Tuesday, Louise had driven into Philadelphia to play piano accompaniment for a former student who was auditioning on the violin. At least, Alice had been able to sew some aprons during those two nights. Then, of course, Alice had been busy with ANGELs the night before.

  “It’s about time,” said Jane as the three of them finally gathered in the library. “I was about to give up.”

  Louise poured tea for the three of them while Alice found the place she had marked a week ago. “Here we are. Grandma Howard had just died and father had written her obituary.”

  “Oh, please read it again, Alice,” begged Jane.

  “Yes,” agreed Louise. “It was so sweet.”

  And so Alice read the obituary again, then moved on to the next journal entry, written about a week later.

  January 4, 1926. Alice and Asher went home before the New Year and I was saddened to see them go. However, I did feel encouraged when Alice told me that I might come live with them if things ever become too difficult for me at home. Naturally, she did not say this in front of my father, and she said it very politely, but I knew exactly what she meant. She meant if my father becamme impossible to live with. I watched Asher’s face as she made this kind offer to me, and I was not entirely convinced that he was in complete agreement. However, he said nothing. Still, it creates a small doubt in my mind. For the truth is, I would rather be unhappy in my father’s house than to disrupt my sister’s happy home with the added responsibility of my presence. I know that they are struggling to make ends meet just now. Asher makes very little working at a shoe store, but he is also studying to be an accountant. “To better himself” is how Alice puts it. Still, I promised my dear sister that I would keep her generous offer in mind.

  What surprises me is that my father has been quite easy to get along with of late. I am not sure if this is because he feels saddened by my mother’s death, or perhaps a bit guilty that he did not do more to save her, or maybe he is relieved that she is gone. I cannot bear to think it might be the latter and have determined that I must push such negative thoughts from my mind. In the meantime, I shall try to make the most of this quiet on the home front. I shall try not to aggravate my father and to do my chores quickly and without complaint. My goal is to maintain my high marks in school and somehow secure my escape from here in the furtherance of my education. Mr. Dolton says “education is the key to a brighter f
uture.” In fact, he has this statement posted right above the blackboard. I am sure he must know what he is talking about, too, since his life seems bright and rewarding to me. Mr. Dolton has a pretty wife who is also a teacher. They have no children and when I asked him about this once, he just laughed and said, “Look at how many children God has blessed us with at this school.” Sometimes I wish that Mr. and Mrs. Dolton could adopt me, but I know this is nothing more than a silly dream. For one thing, I am probably too old, but beyond that I am fairly certain that children cannot be adopted if their parents are living. And although my father has not much of a life, he is still alive.

  But, oh, how I miss my mother. If I knew how to pray or if I believed in God I would demand to know why he took her away from me. I would shake my fist in his face and ask him, why? Why? Why?

  “Poor Father,” said Jane.

  “What a lonely life.” Louise set her knitting aside.

  Alice reached for her teacup. “But do you see something? I think he’s changing. I think he’s beginning to search for God.”

  “I suppose,” said Louise. “But he does not sound very hopeful about it.”

  “But that’s the perfect place to start,” insisted Alice. “When you’re in despair, the only place to look is up.”

  “That is the reassuring part,” said Louise. “We know that Father does figure things out, ultimately. I just never realized he had to pass through such darkness and tragedy to get there.”

  “You know I thought of something the other day,” said Jane. “I suppose it’s obvious, but I’d never considered it before.”

  “What’s that?” asked Alice.

  “Well, obviously Aunt Ethel and Father were only half-sister and brother.”

  Alice nodded with realization. “I hadn’t thought about that either, but you’re right. Ethel wasn’t born when Father’s mother died.”

  “Interesting,” said Louise. “I do not recall ever hearing either Father or Aunt Ethel mentioning that. Do you think she knows?”