Fire and Agate

by Andrew Grey

  “Be understanding. Part of this he has to work through himself. He had a lot of the person he was stripped away, and now he’s trying to figure out who he is again,” Marie explained.

  They talked a little more and then ended the call. Chris really wasn’t sure what to do, but went to sit with Pavle anyway. He hoped just being there would help. Chris took the chair near him, looking out the window as well, as water dripped off the roof. The downpour had softened to a light rain.

  “I really hate him,” Pavle whispered.

  “It’s okay to do that.”

  “He hurt me… a lot.” At least Pavle had relaxed his hands and clasped them behind his back. “He deserve what he get.” Pavle turned away from the window. “How do I stop this?” He placed his hand over his heart.

  “Know that we’re doing our best to make sure he gets what he deserves.”

  Pavle hmphed softly. “That what make me mad.” He waved his hand. “Everyone else get to make him feel bad. I want do. I want hit him, take away food until he pass out on floor. I want to… I want it be me!” He turned away again.

  “You want revenge,” Chris supplied.

  “Is that word?” When Chris nodded, Pavle continued. “Then I want mean revenge.”

  Chris took Pavle’s hand. “The bad thing about revenge is that it makes you as bad as them.” He hoped Pavle understood. “Hurting someone isn’t the way to make yourself feel better, because when it’s over, you’ll hate what you did. You end up as dirty and ugly as they are.”

  “But I want—” Pavle’s expression was almost frightening.

  “I know you do. But do you really want to see him again? Do you want to look him in the eye and then hurt him?” Chris tugged Pavle to him. “Is that the kind of person you are? The kind you want to be?” Chris ran his thumb over Pavle’s cheek, wiping away the tears that ran down.

  “I never want to see again,” Pavle said. “Still want hurt, but never want to see.”

  Chris hugged him, and Pavle clung and cried softly on Chris’s shoulder, wetting his shirt. “It’s okay.”

  “I all swirled up,” Pavle said. Chris knew he meant mixed up, and he was allowed to be. “What I do?”

  “You don’t have to do anything right now.” It was his and Briggs’s job to handle Anthony and get what they needed from him. They had a plan, such as it was, and Chris would carry it through. “Come on. Let’s go sit down for a while.” The rain had ended and the last rays of the sun peeked under the edges of the clouds. This storm had passed, but Chris had no illusions that there weren’t going to be more on the horizon. Sometimes he wished he knew which direction it would come from, but they were never predictable. That was the weird thing about storms—one could see them coming and still not be prepared.

  CHRIS TOOK care of the dinner dishes some time later, and then he and Pavle went upstairs. It had been Chris’s intention to take care of Pavle, but once they were in the bedroom with the door closed, Pavle pushed him back on the bed, his eyes a little wild. Chris was concerned for a few seconds, until Pavle climbed on top of him, pulled him upward by his shirt collar, and kissed him within an inch of his life. He could take a little roughness—he wasn’t going to break—but it became clear that wasn’t what this was. Pavle seemed to be asserting that he needed to be in charge, and Chris was more than happy to let Pavle do the driving.

  One thing was for sure, Pavle certainly seemed eager, if a little clumsy, but that didn’t matter at all. Chris held on for what turned out to be a wild, energetic ride that left both of them panting and huffing, sweaty, wrung out, and gasping for air on the damp sheets. Chris could only breathe and lie still for a long while. Then he got Pavle into the shower. With Pavle wrapped in a towel, Chris changed the bedding, and the two of them climbed into the crisp, freshly made bed, falling right to sleep and staying in bed a lot longer than Chris intended.

  Breakfast the following morning consisted of two slices of toast that Chris grabbed and handed to Pavle on their way out to the car. They had ten minutes to get through town and to the church before the service started.

  The room was quiet as they walked in and sat in one of the rear pews, but the music started a few minutes later. It had been quite a while since Chris had been to church, and he didn’t know what to expect.

  Pavle, on the other hand, seemed excited and swayed to the music, humming loudly because he didn’t know the words, grinning the entire time.

  The highlight of the service was Tyrone’s sermon on helping others. “A kind act is like a ripple on the water. It gets bigger and spreads out. Sometimes it fades away. In fact, it does that most of the time. But other times it touches something unexpected.” He paused for effect. “We all know about the house next door that is being torn down.” A few “amens” scattered throughout the congregation. “That house was a den of iniquity. We’ve known that for a long time. But what we didn’t know was that there were innocent people in there, victims. And we were able to help in our own way. Now, they don’t know it, but they blessed us. Yes, my friends, it’s good to be on the getting side of an act of kindness, but it feels so much better to be on the giving side. Let me tell you. There is nothing sweeter than knowing that you did something to help someone else. So, this week I’m going to task each and every one of you with a single act of kindness. Children, that can be helping Grandma, Grandpa, or one of your neighbors. I bet there are plenty of people who need help in their yards. And the rest of you, each of you knows someone in need. There are plenty in our community. And don’t forget to watch for the opportunities you don’t expect, because those are the ones that come from God.”

  Pavle turned to Chris. “He talked about me.” He bit his lower lip as Chris nodded.

  “Yes. It was very nice, and he said he was happy to have been able to help you.” There was a lot more nuance in his words, but that was the real gist of it.

  The service went on, and at the offering, Chris placed two twenties in the plate.

  “Before I dismiss all of you, I want to welcome everyone to our spring potluck lunch in the park. The shelter is reserved, and the kids will have a place to play. All are welcome, so please stay for an afternoon of fellowship.” He dismissed the congregation, and everyone stood to leave, talking as they went.

  “Are you ready to go?” Chris asked. He didn’t think staying was a great idea.

  “We stay?” Pavle asked.

  Chris hesitated before nodding. If that was what Pavle wanted, he was fine with it. He was concerned for Pavle’s safety, but Pavle seemed so intent. Chris weighed the security implications with Pavle feeling locked away again. “For a little while. How about we hurry home so I can put something together? It will take some time for them to set up.” And he wasn’t going to arrive empty-handed.

  On the way out, he shook hands with Tyrone, who smiled. “Are you staying?”

  “Yes,” Pavle said with delight. “We go home to get food.” He smiled at Anika and Tyrone and Isaac, who hugged Pavle’s leg. He knelt down and got a proper hug as well.

  “Swing me?” Isaac asked.

  “Yes. When I come back.” Pavle practically vibrated as he left the church and hurried to the car. “What we make?”

  “I have things for a salad. You’ll have to help me cut things because we’ll have to make it quickly.” Chris took off and hurried to the house. They went through their arrival routine, and Chris got out the makings for salad. He and Pavle whipped it up in no time, and soon they were on their way back to the potluck. They parked and approached the pavilion as Tyrone extricated himself from the group to meet them.

  “Welcome. I’m so glad you could join us.” Tyrone turned to the group. “Everyone, this is Pavle and Chris. They joined us for services this morning. Please make them welcome.” He smiled, and everyone stayed still, looking at both of them until one of the ladies broke the ice.

  “I’m Wilma Carter,” she said, extending her hand. She had graying hair and eyes as bright as the sun. She also had a pre
sence about her that said no one messed with her without paying a price.

  “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Chris, and this is Pavle.” They both shook her hand.

  “It’s wonderful of you to join us. You’re a sheriff’s deputy, correct?” Man, she was well informed. “And I’m so glad you could join us, both of you.” She held Pavle’s gaze.

  Pavle smiled nervously and glanced at Chris as though he were wondering if he was going to get his hand back. Thankfully, Isaac ran up and barreled into Pavle’s legs. “Hi, Isaac.”

  “Towers?” Isaac asked.

  “We don’t have the blocks here,” Chris explained.

  Isaac considered that for a few seconds and then pointed. Pavle nodded, and Isaac took him by the hand, leading him across to the playground.

  “Deputy,” Wilma began, and Chris wondered what was coming. “Excuse me for being suspicious… but…. The police in this area haven’t been helpful a lot of the time.”

  “Wilma, I don’t blame you, and we need to change that.” He looked around at a sea of faces all trying to seem as though they weren’t watching the two of them. Ladies fussed with dishes and covers. Men stood in groups talking, or seeming to. “But… I’m a man who came because he was invited.” He held her gaze right back. There was no way he was going to out-church her.

  Her left eyebrow cocked upward. “You got guts.”

  “So do you. But mostly I have a stomach that’s starting to wonder if my throat’s been cut, and that potluck is looking real good.” Chris grinned, and Wilma’s lips turned upward.

  “Don’t go giving the man the third degree,” Reverend Tyrone said. “We’ll say grace in a few minutes, but I think you’re needed to make sure everything is ready.” He smiled gently, and Wilma nodded and returned to the tables, where she began marshalling the troops.

  “I’m sorry. She can be a bit forceful,” Tyrone explained.

  Chris nodded. “I like her.” He let his gaze travel to where Pavle played with Isaac and the other kids, pushing them on the swings at the moment.

  Tyrone cleared his throat, and Chris returned his wandering attention back to where it belonged. “I spoke with the church council this week, and we agreed. Based on rumor and what we’ve seen and know happened, we believe Pavle was brought to this country and basically sold into slavery.”

  Chris swallowed at the word and nodded. It was a difficult thing to hear, especially given the company.

  “We agreed that if Pavle wishes to return to his own country, then the church will pay for that to happen. He deserves to have the life he wants.”

  Chris was speechless as he felt the ground under him become a little less firm. “That’s very generous of all of you.” His world had suddenly shifted on its axis. Would Pavle want to return to Serbia now that he knew it was a viable option? He had to have family there still, and they didn’t need to know anything about what had happened here. Pavle could start his life over surrounded by people who spoke the same language, in a place where Pavle understood the culture and customs. “Have you told him?”

  “Not yet. I thought that maybe you could tell him. I understand that he has a number of court dates and most likely still has statements to give. But we wanted to give Pavle options once he’s through with all that.” Tyrone smiled, and Chris forced one that he hoped appeared genuine.

  Chris nodded. “I’ll pass the offer on to Pavle.”

  “Reverend,” Wilma said as she approached. “We’re ready.”

  He nodded, and Chris stepped back. The women called the children over from playing, and Pavle joined him. “We eat?”

  “Yes. I’m hungry too.”

  They bowed their heads as Tyrone said a prayer, and then everyone lined up to eat. Chris and Pavle took a place at the back of the line and waited their turn.

  Out of habit, Chris watched the crowd and the buildings around them, centering his attention on the now-empty house Pavle had been held in. The curtains in one of the upstairs rooms fluttered as though falling back into place. Chris continued watching as he pulled out his phone and barely waited for an answer.

  “Briggs, was anyone supposed to be at the condemned house on West and A? I swear I just saw some movement inside.”

  “No. I’ll have a couple cars head on over now and call Carlisle PD. We need to check it out.”

  Chris ended the call, and within thirty seconds, sirens sounded, getting closer. The group seemed to collectively tense as the cars pulled up.

  “We may need to go right home, now.” Chris was already moving Pavle toward the church and then inside. This had been a really bad idea. Going to church was one thing, but a potluck in an open park was quite another. In his desire to make Pavle happy, Chris might have stupidly taken a huge chance with his safety.

  His phone beeped with a message from Red. The house is empty and we don’t see any sign of entry. It might have been a breeze.

  Or whoever was in there had a key…. Chris offered. Seconds later his phone vibrated, and Chris answered it.

  “I don’t see where anyone has been here at all. There is a window that’s loose, and it’s letting the wind blow through,” Red told him, and Chris sighed softly.

  “Thanks. I saw what I thought was movement, and with Pavle and me at the church today, I….” He felt like such a rookie fool.

  “It was good you called. The structure is very dangerous. Apparently the foundation is crumbling as badly as the rest of the place. Carter and I are heading out, but I wanted to get back to you right away. And thanks. It was a really dull day, and you provided some excitement. I’ll inform Briggs.”

  “Thanks.” Chris hung up and sighed. “It’s okay.”

  “We go outside? I hungry.” Pavle was already heading toward the door.

  Chris followed. “Pavle, I’m sorry,” he said, and Pavle paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Being here… I put you in danger.” His heart still pounded a mile a minute.

  “You thought you see someone?”

  Chris nodded. “And we shouldn’t be here. It’s safer if we go home.”

  Pavle glared at him and then released the door, placing his hands on his hips, fire burning in his eyes. “No. I need get out, talk, maybe laugh. You come if want, but I no trade prison for prison.” He stepped closer. “I no!” His lower lip quivered, and Chris wanted to try to explain to him that it was for a limited time, but Pavle was too angry. “You no wrap in wool and keep away from everything.” Pavle turned. “I eat now.” He yanked the door open and joined the others outside.

  Chris shook his head. He only wanted to keep Pavle safe. He understood his frustration, but there were very nasty people looking for him.

  “There you are,” Reverend Tyrone said when they rejoined the others.

  “Sorry.”

  “You missed the excitement,” Tyrone explained.

  “Yeah,” one of the boys, about twelve or so, said. “The police were at the bad house.” He pointed. “They’re gone now.” He raced back to the food table, and Tyrone rolled his eyes.

  “You’d think the place housed buried treasure, as fascinated with it as some of the boys are. They want to go exploring because they think it will be an adventure.” He shook his head. “Go on and eat before the teenagers vacuum up every scrap that’s left.”

  “I will.” Chris got a plate and filled it with some amazing-looking food. Pavle waved, and Chris sat down next to him. He wasn’t sure if he was going to be welcome after Pavle’s outburst, but he seemed to have said his piece.

  “This Nadine and Gregory,” Pavle said with a smile. “She make this.” Pavle pointed to the macaroni salad. “It really good.” He smiled and took another bite.

  “I’m glad you like it,” she said with a wide smile.

  Pavle pointed, and Chris took a taste as well, nodding his agreement. It was really good, and unlike most things in Central PA, it wasn’t sweet, but tangy with mustard.

  Pavle chattered on with everyone around him. It must have been his true per
sonality showing itself, and it was amazing to see. Isaac eventually pulled Pavle away to the swings as they finished eating, and a group of kids followed him like he had pockets overflowing with candy.

  “They love him,” Nadine said while Gregory watched Pavle and the kids. “Why don’t you go over and watch them as well?” Nadine suggested.

  Gregory finished eating and pulled himself up to his full six foot six or so, towering over everyone. He growled at the kids, and they giggle-screamed. Clearly it was a routine they were familiar with.

  Pavle, on the other hand, paled and stood shaking like a leaf, looking blankly off into space.

  Chris jumped up and ran to him. “It’s okay. He’s just playing.”

  “Oh… I think….” Pavle blinked and seemed to return to himself. “I was there again. I okay. I okay,” he whispered. “He gone now.”

  “Come sit down?” Chris offered.

  Pavle shook his head. “I stay. Need to put in past.” He squared his shoulders and returned to gently pushing Isaac on the green-seated kiddie swing.

  Sometimes the strength in Pavle blew him away. Chris returned to his plate, sitting diagonally across from Nadine.

  “He’s been through a lot. I know the look.”

  “Yeah, he has. The stories he could tell…. Let’s just say I looked like a teenager last week.” He smiled, and Nadine cackled. “Okay… well, maybe not that young.”

  “Like I said. I know the look. Each of my gray hairs has a name on it, and most of them are William, my brother.” She turned to smile. “Gregory got fed up with the way things were and moved us here about five years ago. Philadelphia has its advantages, but we hoped that someplace smaller would be safer.” She shrugged. “It’s about the same, I guess.”

  “It always is.” Chris raised his eyebrows, and Nadine smiled. “The grass is always greener until you get there and find out the green is just a bunch of weeds.” He drank a huge gulp of lemonade. “And then sometimes, just maybe once in a blue moon, someone comes along and the grass turns out to be grass after all, thick and lush.”