Darkness Before Dawn

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Darkness Before Dawn Page 27

by Ace Collins


  “Mrs. Richards,” his voice was a little shaky, “I should be apologizing to you. I am the one who . . .”

  “You were driving,” Meg interrupted, “but the alcohol is why it happened. If it hadn’t been for that, then there would have been no accident. It was the alcohol, not you. You can’t change that past part of your life, but you can still put your life together. You can use what has happened to help others from letting it happen to them.”

  “Still,” the boy began, but Meg once again cut him off before he could continue.

  “Jim, I have a feeling that the alcohol and the partying were an attempt to replace something that you were missing in your life. It’s just a guess, but I have a feeling that you were looking for something even on that night, and you probably still haven’t found it. Heaven knows, I haven’t helped you any.”

  “Mrs. Richards,” Thomas’s voice was now strong and sure, “if I’m missing something, then a lot of my friends are, too.”

  “I know. And all day long I’ve been looking for a way to do something to help you find it. I’m still not sure what I can do, but until I discover how, I’ve got something I want to share with you. Something that Nancy shared with me.”

  Reaching into her purse, Meg pulled out a new Bible. “Jim, I’m sure that you probably have got a bunch of these at home. Most of them probably have an inch or two of dust on them, but tonight I just thought this one might help you find an answer or two; at least to realize just how wrong I have been, and why now, I’m different.

  “You see, I rediscovered an important part of me in this book. And I hope that you might find something, too.”

  After she handed Jim the black, leather bound book, she started to get up and leave. But before she could walk away, he made a request. “What did you read?”

  Pulling the Bible from his hands, she leafed through the pages until she came to Romans 12:9-21. Using her index finger, she pointed to the verses.

  “From here to here.”

  Taking the book back from her, he glanced back into the woman’s eyes, and then marked the place with the Bible’s ribbon, closed it, and set it beside him on the bed. She waited for him to say something, but his lips remained tightly drawn.

  “Take care of yourself,” Meg answered and left the room.

  She sighed as she walked down the hall. Did she make an impact? Shaking her head, she figured that she would never know. But at least the hard words had been said. He may not have been humbled, but she had been. And admitting her mistakes had lifted the final heavy load off her shoulders.

  She walked up to the nurses’ station and looked over at Heather. Opening her arms, she hugged her friend.

  “What was that for?” Heather asked.

  “I’m back,” she whispered. “The old Meg is back. Thank God she came back before I ruined any more lives.”

  57

  EVEN AFTER SAVING JIM THOMAS’S LIFE, EVEN AFTER DISCOVERING NANCY’S gift, the road back to where she had been was not an easy one. Meg had hurt too many people and made too many deep impressions to have everyone instantly trust and accept her. Yet the change took place, likely because the foundation had always been there. She wasn’t as much discovering a new person as embracing the woman she’d always been—the one Steve had fallen in love with so many years ago. And she liked that Meg a lot.

  Almost two months of hard work and kind actions had rebuilt most of the bridges Meg had burned during her campaign for vengeance. Some, like the hospital administrator, were still keeping a close eye on her—waiting for her to slip up. But the nurses trusted her again. In fact, they had thrown her a baby shower. And at that shower Nancy’s husband, Joe, had shown up with a gift his late wife had ordered before she’d died. It was nothing big, nothing really special, just a tiny pink outfit. Yet Meg wondered why Nancy thought that she was going to have a girl. After all, she’d not even found out the baby’s sex yet. She hadn’t wanted to know.

  As Steve had said time and time again, the apartment was too small to raise a kid in, so Meg had moved to an older, but well-maintained, two-bedroom frame home just a few blocks from her mother’s. In the extra bedroom, Meg, her mother, and Heather spent a whole weekend decorating a nursery in Steve’s favorite colors—red and blue.

  Yet faith can only do so much. With each passing day that drew her nearer the birth of her child, her loneliness hovered over her like a cloud. Sometimes that cloud was dark and ominous. It brought with it pain, but no longer a cry for vengeance. Yet even though her need for Steve’s love was still strong, her need for retribution was gone. While she didn’t accept her loss as God’s will, she was at peace with what happened.

  Being alone was not something that she enjoyed, but it was no longer a time when she felt deserted. She had faith to support her. It wasn’t the same kind of faith as her mother’s, Meg was still a fighter and a questioner much more than an accepter, but it was a faith that fit her own personality. It was faith that once again worked for her.

  At first, she had been unable to visit Steve’s grave. Now she stopped by at least twice a week with fresh flowers. Once she cleaned up the grass and weeds around the new headstone, she sat down and informed him of the baby’s latest kicks and the other events in her life. That one-way conversation brought tears to the eyes of observers, but it somehow made Meg feel like Steve was still a part of her life. She didn’t want to give them up either.

  Each night, before going to bed, Meg began a new tradition. She read the Bible Nancy left her. And every morning, just before she left for work, she’d reread the passage she knew that Nancy had meant for her to find.

  Work was no longer an escape as it had been in the first weeks and months after Steve’s death. She looked forward to each new day as an avenue for meeting new people and touching lives. With her quick smile and warm eyes, she was once more the nurse everyone requested. Except for missing Steve, her life couldn’t have been more perfect. And it was that one empty place that pushed her on to do something meaningful, something positive and rewarding, something that she felt was a proper way for her to dedicate herself to Steve’s memory.

  Rather than bury the pain of Steve’s death, Meg now talked about it. A local representative of Mothers Against Drunk Driving had by chance heard her speak in her Sunday school class in early August. That woman got Meg involved in MADD. She embraced this service with zeal and enthusiasm. She didn’t hesitate to share her story with church and school groups, as well as legislative bodies, civic and social clubs. Each time she spoke, she felt as if she might just be saving someone else from going through what she had. Now, just days from her due date, she was looking forward to one of the most important speaking engagements of her life.

  “Meg,” Heather asked as they finished up another day of work, “are you sure you should go tonight? I mean, that child is due any day now.”

  “I’ve got to, Heather,” Meg explained as she completed the count and prepared to check out. “There are going to be over five hundred high school kids there. And if just one of them take’s note of what I say, then I’ll have done something that might save a life.”

  “High school kids?” Heather replied ironically. “When I was in high school I blew off anything that anyone over twenty had to say. How are you going to make them hear you? Sweetheart, this is not going to be a picnic.”

  “I know and I’m scared,” Meg answered. “Still, I’ve got to try. It’s important to me. After all, drunk driving is the number one cause of death in people of that age. If I don’t talk, then they’ll get to watch a video or have a science teacher speak to them. And you know that the kids won’t get much out of that.”

  Heather gave in. She wasn’t going to get Meg to go home and rest, but she could add a stipulation. “Okay, I’ll let you go, if you’ll let me drive you and stay with you. I mean you might need a nurse!”

  Smiling, Meg nodded. “Pick me up at six-thirty.”

  58

  A FEW HOURS LATER, AS MEG LOOKED OUT AT THE PACKE
D AUDITORIUM she was glad that Heather had decided to come along. These kids, brought together simply as an extra credit assignment for school, did not appear to be a receptive audience. They were there only because they had to be. It was a grade, no more, and most of them were not going to give Meg either their attention or respect. It would be the toughest group she had ever addressed, but it was the one that probably needed to hear her words the most.

  When the school superintendent introduced her, she couldn’t help but note only a few of the kids seemed to be listening and even fewer responded with applause. The school principal had warned her she’d be speaking to the party animals, as it seemed the good kids didn’t need the extra credit. So it was as if her captive audience was really made up of zoo animals and she was the raw meat. Most were talking and texting and some were even tossing a ball around. The supervisors had given up even trying to make them behave. Looking back at Heather for some support, she waddled her nine-months pregnant body out to the middle of the stage, deciding the best way to try to win the group over was by being honest.

  Clearing her throat, she began, “You came here tonight to fulfill an assignment. I came here tonight to reveal to you something I think is very important. Something that I feel is a matter of life and death. Yet, what I’m going to say you have heard a hundred times and so you probably are wishing that I would just hand out a few brochures and let you go home. It’s too important for me to do that and I only hope that you’ll give me at least a few minutes of your time.”

  Even as she spoke, Meg could still hear the students—many of them talking to one another, some simply shuffling in their seats, and many being outright rowdy, but few, if any, were hearing her words. Silently, she uttered a short plea to God for some help. But as she went on it became more and more obvious this was going to be a wasted cause. The louder she spoke, the louder the noise made by those in the audience. Ten minutes into her speech, she glanced back toward Heather as if to say, I’m not doing a bit of good. I might as well give up.

  Suddenly she heard someone in the back shout, “Shut up!” Even if they were rude enough to talk and text and not pay any attention to what she said, she still was shocked that anyone could have such gall to yell. Then she heard it again. This time the voice was even louder.

  “Just shut up!”

  As the voice echoed through the gym, her heart sank. Now she was sure she might as well give up and go home. Looking down at the podium, tears began to well up in her eyes. Her past was coming back to haunt her.

  “Shut up,” the voice shouted for the third time and suddenly the entire audience quit talking and turned to look at a figure quickly making his way down the aisle from the back of the room to the stage. Because of the spotlight directed at her, as well as the darkened gymnasium, Meg couldn’t tell much about the young man, except that he was very agitated and in a big hurry to get to her. As he got closer, she was pretty sure she knew who he was. Too stunned to be scared and too confused to continue speaking, just like the others, she waited for the young man to do what it was he was going to do and that was humiliate her.

  He climbed the six steps to the platform two at a time. Then, as his feet hit the stage and as his face was illuminated by the spotlight, Meg confirmed what she believed when she heard his shout. It was Jim Thomas.

  She was sure he was here to make a fool out of her. He was going to expose what she was to the whole world. He was probably going to blame Steve and he’d make her look like a vengeful, stone-cold monster. She wanted to run, but there wasn’t any place to go. So she was stuck in one spot, in front of a silent and gasping audience just as stunned as she was by what was happening.

  Jim covered the fifteen feet to the platform in four more steps and suddenly he was standing beside her. Looking down, he demanded she move to the side. Meg responded by walking across the platform and toward the exit, almost as if running for cover, but as he began to speak, she stopped.

  “You know me. I’m Jim Thomas. I’m the guy who was voted most likely to succeed last semester. I was the captain of the football, baseball, and basketball teams. Some of you considered me Mr. Cool. But I’ve changed a lot since I graduated and I think all of you need to hear about it.”

  The crowd was now completely silent. All eyes were on the young man and no one made a move to stop him from speaking. He had everyone’s complete attention.

  “Listen, because these are the facts,” he continued. Then, pointing a finger at himself, he said in a strong voice, “I killed this woman’s husband. I loaded myself up with some booze and killed him with my car. You know what, I was less drunk that night than I’d been at least a dozen times before. I used to get so wasted I didn’t even remember driving home. But I remember that night in detail. So I was a lot less drunk than most of you are every Friday night. But I guess how drunk I was or wasn’t didn’t matter much to Mrs. Richards’s husband. I was gone enough to kill him.”

  The boy’s words were now rushing out at rapid-fire rate and he knew what he had to say.

  “This is no joke. Since the time this meeting has started three people in this country have been killed by drunk drivers. I don’t know how many more have been injured. But, to put it into perspective, if each of us—and you look around, there are a lot of us here tonight—starting at this very moment took the place of a victim, it is amazing how fast we would fall. By midnight, the whole first two rows would be dead. By tomorrow night, all of you sitting in the first nine rows would be lying in a morgue somewhere. By next week at this time, all of us, everyone in this room would be dead. Kind of frightening, isn’t it?”

  Meg took a few steps away from the exit back toward the stage. She didn’t want the young man to go through this alone. She was going to join him. As she made her way back to the platform, he continued.

  “You know, I killed someone. Do you know how hard that is to say? Well, it was real easy to do. Nobody here can afford not to listen to what this lady has to say. If it wasn’t for me, she wouldn’t know anything about this. Each night I pray that I will wake up from the nightmare that I created. But I can’t change that now. It’s too late! But you can. Don’t let yourself make someone else as well-informed on widowhood and alcohol statistics as Mrs. Richards. Listen to her now.”

  Thomas looked back toward Meg. It was time for her to talk, his eyes said. They would listen. Meg took the few steps back to the podium. As she did, he started to leave, but she caught his hand.

  “Please, stand here beside me,” she asked. Then she turned toward the now quiet crowd. “It took a lot of courage for Jim to come up here and talk to you and it shows just how important he thinks this subject is.” Glancing to her left, Meg said, “Thank you, Jim.” Then, she continued.

  “What Jim has to live with none of us can imagine nor would we want to. You see, as he said, he can’t go back to fix the mistake he made. But, if you haven’t made that mistake, you can change it before it happens.

  “If a whole high school class were killed by drunk drivers, then something would be done. But the kind of abuse and death we are trying to tell you about doesn’t happen that way. It happens one person at a time and usually the story is buried on the back page. We never see the ruined lives. Never feel the pain of the survivors.

  “Kids, I’m not asking you to plead guilty for what you have done in the past. What I’m asking is for you to find something to replace the drinking and the driving. For me it is faith and a belief in God. I don’t need to search for my highs anywhere else or by using anything else. I think that this would work for you, too. But whatever it is you choose, you need to find something to take the place of booze. You strive so hard every day to make adults think you are grown up. Well, booze controls you and your actions. The sign of real maturity is for you to be in total control.”

  The crowd was stone silent. They were taking in every word Meg said.

  “Right now, if things don’t change, in your lifetime, one in four of you will be seriously injured or kill
ed by someone who is drinking and driving. Don’t become a statistic and don’t be the one responsible for continuing this sad trend. Stop your drinking and driving, tell your friends to stop, too. Not for my sake or my husband’s or Jim Thomas’s, but for yours.

  “Thank you, and good night.”

  Meg turned and walked to the side of the stage with Thomas following. When they were safely in the wings, Meg looked up expecting to see a boy’s face, but a man looked back.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “They needed to hear what you had to say,” he answered. “I only wish I’d heard it a few years ago.”

  “But you put yourself on the line,” she argued. “You knocked yourself. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “No,” he grimly replied, “I told it the way it was. None of them should have to experience what you or I have. I wanted them to feel a little bit of both yours and my pain, and maybe, just maybe, it will give some of the ones who need to hear it the worst something to think about before it’s too late.”

  “Would it have helped you,” Meg asked, “if someone like me had spoken to you back then?”

  “I don’t know if what happened tonight would have made a lasting impact, but what you showed me in my hospital room after I tried to kill myself would have made an impact no matter when it happened.

  “You see, my parents gave me everything that I could’ve ever wanted, except for their time and their love. They bought me cars and gave me money, but they never took the time to give me limits or even care enough about me to respond in the right way to my big mistakes. I guess when I tried to cash in my life I was crying out to them and they still haven’t heard me. You temporarily saved my life with your CPR, but it was the genuine caring that I felt when you came into my room the next day that give me a reason to live.”

  He paused a moment, ran his hand through his hair, and shook his head.

 

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