Hunter's Moon

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Hunter's Moon Page 15

by Jay Heavner


  Several people complimented Tom on the eulogy, but he was looking for Joann and Miriah. A hand touched his shoulder, and he turned to see his wife and daughter. “We made it,” Joann said. “A little late, but we made it. We had to park at the school and walk up here.”

  “I’m glad you made it. The weather cooperated for us.” He looked toward the west. “This had got to be one of the prettiest sights on the earth, such beauty among the ashes here.”

  Joann said, “Yes, it is. Maybe one day this will be our final resting place, too.”

  Tom felt a tug on his shirt. It was Miriah trying to get his attention. “What is it, honey? What do you want?”

  “Daddy, I want what you and Mommy and the Dowlens have. I want to become a Christian today.”

  “Oh honey, that’s wonderful. Joann, let’s pray.” Tom got down on his knees next to Miriah, as did Joann. “Lord, you heard what this young lady said. She wants to become a Christian. I know she knows what this means from all the preachin’ and teachin’ ‘bout You she’s heard in her life. You forgive our sins when we ask. You’ll be our constant guide and friend. You said You would never forget or forsake us. She wants to be one of Your children today. Just take her as she is. Amen.” And they all said amen.

  Tom hugged Miriah and said, “Today, you are a new creation in Jesus Christ.”

  She smiled. ‘You know Daddy; I feel different…so..so...clean.”

  “Your sins are gone. That’s why.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I feel good all over.” She paused. “Daddy, do you think my friend Ruhama and her family know?

  “I think so. Yes, I think they do.”

  Joann spoke to her, “I’m so happy for you. You’ve made my day. I really hate to stop this celebration of new life, but there’s a bunch of people expecting a lunch at Padre’s church. We better get going.”

  They walked down the hill to the school. What a day it had been, thought Tom. First, the services for the Dowlens and now his daughter becoming a Christian. He remembered a proverb an old Jewish man had told him, ‘Out of every bad thing, something good can come’ and he would know—he’d survived one of history’s darkest times, the Holocaust. May it never happen again, but Tom feared it would. Each generation seems to think it’s smarter than the previous and then sadly repeats the same mistakes. Without the Lord, Tom thought, all this would be very depressing. What would I do?

  Chapter 21

  TGIF! Tom was happy, happy, happy to see it finally arrive. Like the people at Knobley Mountain Bottled Water Company, he was glad when the weekend rolled around. The week had been super busy for all as the sales volume continued to climb, and Tom was taking up the slack as usual. He’d helped rearrange routes to fit the new normal. All routes had grown too large for one man, so a little was sliced off each for a new route Tom was developing and working this week.

  He breathed a sigh of relief when the last truck came in late Friday afternoon. The driver, Jared, quickly filled out his weekly paper report and left. Doug, his son, needed to leave a little early, so Tom closed up the shop. It seemed he had a dinner date with a young lady he met at the Cumberland Soaring Club. All too well, Tom remembered the ups and downs of young love. He hoped all went well, and Doug remembered his table manners, not one of his strong points.

  Tom locked up the warehouse and headed for his house’s back door, which opened into the kitchen. Typically, Joann had a great Friday evening meal set for the two of them and her daughter Miriah, but nothing had been done. The table wasn’t even set. Joann’s been awful moody this week, but sometimes women are like that. He looked around the house, but she was not inside. He located her in the old swing on the porch. He sat down beside her, but she said nothing. They swung gently back and forth for a while, and then she spoke, “Honey, we need to talk.”

  Nothing brings fear to a man’s heart more than the words ‘Honey, we need to talk,’ and Tom was no exception in the masculine world. His mind kicked into overdrive. Had she wrecked the car, or ran up their credit card? Was Miriah sick or had someone seen him talking friendly with a woman or female manager at one of the stores and put a bug in her ear about him maybe having an affair? What could it be?

  “Honey, I have a confession to make to you.”

  Well, at least he was off the hook, but what could it be?

  “You know we’ve been wanting to add to our family, so on Monday, I went in for a complete physical. I’ve not had one for years, and I wanted to know everything was in good order. The general practitioner did not like what she saw and recommended I see an OB/GYN specialist. I was lucky they had a cancellation today, and they got me in.” She took a long pause. “What they found wasn’t good. They said it was very, very unlikely I could ever become pregnant again.”

  Tom said, “That’s disappointing, but there are specialists that can help with that problem.”

  Joann lowered her eyes, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “It’s not that, Tom. A specialist won’t help.” He looked at her, puzzled. “Tom, I’ve been keeping a secret from you. You know how my first husband walked out on me and to this day, we still do not know where he is.”

  Tom nodded.

  “I was left with all the bills. He wiped out our checking and savings accounts and ran up every credit card we had to the max. I didn’t know how I‘d provide for myself, let along Miriah. About that time, I found out I was pregnant. The whole world seemed to be weighed down on my shoulders. I turned to a ‘friend,’ and she advised me to have an abortion. She knew of a place in Baltimore that would quietly ‘take care of things.’ They did alright. They did such a ‘good job,’ it now looks like I’ll never be able to have any more children. The doctors said they’d never seen a job that bad. Tom, I’ve regretted my decision every day of my life since. I wanted you so bad as a husband. I prayed for one like you. God blessed me, warts and all, with you. I was so afraid of what you would think of me for doing this, and I was worried for you. What would the people at your church say if they knew the pastor’s wife had an abortion? Oh, Tom, I’m so sorry. I’ve made such a mess of things. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Tom was stunned. It seemed his rock he leaned on in time of troubles was now a lump of clay. He put his arms around her, and she began to cry. The crying became sobbing, and tears fell like rain. Her body shook as she wept. Tom knew laments like this. Commonly, they occur at funerals when people mourned for their loss, and she was in sorrow for her losses, her lost child and now her barrenness. He held her close, and the tears wash away the pain as she cried. The sobbing stopped, and she laid her head on Tom’s shoulder. Joann wiped away the tears from her eyes and on her face and sniffled through her nose. She pulled away from him and asked in a small voice, “Can you forgive me, Tom?” Her eyes begged for an answer.

  “Joann, I will love you no matter what. I took you for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. I forgive you for hiding the complete truth from me. If I’d been in your shoes, I probably would have done the same. I still love this gift God gave me, and I know that He has forgiven you also.”

  “Tom, I don’t deserve you.”

  Tom’s face turned a mixture of grimace and grin. “Nor I you.”

  The couple sat on the swing and rocked silently for the longest of time. They held each other close in their arms, but a rude noise disturbed the stillness. Tom’s stomach growled. “Mercy,” said Joann. “We need to take care of that before it eats your backbone, and I don’t have a thing cooked.”

  “How about fish and chips at Linda’s? It’s Friday, you know. It should be her special of the day,” said Tom.

  “Sounds great to me. I’m buying, and I won’t take no for an answer,” she replied.

  “You’re on. One more thing. We need to pray about this.”

  “Okay,” Joann said with some question in her voice.

  Tom held her close and began. “Dear Father, most wonderful Creator and Counselor. You know all that just happened here. You know eve
rything. If it be Your will, please give us a child just as you opened the womb of Your maidservant Hannah in ancient times. If the answer is no, help us accept it. Either way, we know You are good. Amen.”

  Joann let out a deep breath. “Amen.”

  They sat on the swing a little longer, and Tom’s stomach growled again, this time louder.

  Joann said, “Let’s get going before that thing eats us both up. I need to go upstairs and grab a jacket. Oh, I forgot to tell you. Miriah is staying with her cousins at my sister’s house tonight. I’ll be right back,” and off she went.

  Tom continued to swing. Life was always full of surprises. Things never seemed settled. Tom prayed to himself, “Dear God, help me to live that prayer. I need you so.”

  Joann came back on the porch with a jacket on. “Ready? I could eat a whale.”

  “Think Linda has halibut or whiting. You may want to check with Captain Ahab for the whale.”

  “You know, Tom. I love you.”

  “And I love you.” His stomach growled loudly once more. “Saints preserve us. Let’s get supper before this thing doth consume us both.” They did. And it was good as it always was at Linda’s.

  Chapter 22

  Six months ago, strong man Big Tony was transferred from the prison in Frederick, Maryland, to the Western Maryland Correctional Institute. His ‘job’ at the former prison was to recruit members for the Voice’s criminal operations mainly in the state of Maryland and also to bring peace among the different groups at the facility. He’d done his job well, and The Voice needed his expertise in the new prison near Cumberland, Maryland. The Voice had many connections in the state’s political arena, which pulled strings and had him relocated. Big Tony’s ‘job’ was to do the same at this violent place. The Warden would have what he wanted, no more reports in the papers of killings of guards or inmates, and The Voice would have what he wanted, more recruits for his purposes. It was a win-win situation for all, something the Voice always sought. Happy people kept their tongues still.

  It was not easy, but the Warden looked the other way, and Big Tony developed his own organization with snitches and enforcers. Obey the group’s rules, and things went well for you. If you disobeyed, an enforcer used intimidation. If the inmate was stubborn or stuck on stupid, a beating and some time in solitary came next. Most prisoners could see the writing on the prison wall and got the idea quickly. Reports of violence went down rapidly, and the papers soon went off to other stories.

  Politicians and bureaucrats like to claim there never was enough money. More money means more power for them. Money had been appropriated for more facilities at the prison, but it was short of what was needed when hidden kickbacks were quietly taken out. Big Tony saw an opportunity and had a solution to this problem. One thing the prison did have, lots of idle hands looking for something to do. Big Tony knew many of the men possessed construction skills, and he created a plan together with the Warden. They had enough money for building materials and blueprints, but little else. Big Tony and men he selected would oversee the construction of new facilities, and trusted inmates were to provide the labor. In return for the work, the Warden would look the other way when alcohol and drugs were brought to reward the workers. The word spread throughout the prison and craftsmen of all trades came out of the woodwork. Laborers, carpenters, electricians, equipment operators and plumbers all indicated their willingness to cooperate under these conditions.

  All site preparation was done by hand. Large amounts of earth typically moved by machinery were moved by human labor as done in third world countries. A small hill was leveled, deep footers were dug for the foundation, and excess earth was dumped where Warrior Creek entered the Potomac River. The land where the prison sat had been the site of an old French and Indian War fort, several grist mills on Warrior Run, numerous old homesteads, and until recently, the Celanese Fibers Corporation manufacturing facility. The state of Maryland acquired the site when the company was declared bankrupt. Large amounts of refuse and debris from years of human activity were dug up by the inmate workers and dumped down by the river. Celanese buried many obsolete pieces of machinery over the years of operation which the workers found. Among the refuse uncovered was a rusted and ancient piece of weighty metal resembling a pipe. It was about 3 feet long and had a hard, old wooden plug forced in one end. This too, was moved to the trash dump down by the river.

  The project was slowly completed by the inmates who did not want it to end, but it was finished just the same. Completion meant the end of the good times. The Warden put in a good word for certain inmates who had time knocked off their sentences. The Governor and other elected officials praised him for his “innovative and creative solutions to financial challenges with funding for the facility.” It had been a win-win situation for all as long as certain details were overlooked, and all were willing to turn a blind eye to get the new buildings done.

  The Warden encouraged the inmates to show up for Bible studies. This looked good on his reports when attendance went up, not that he cared about what went on, nor did most of the inmates who saw it as a safe place to let their guard down and relax awhile. But there had been some surprises. Big Tony liked to check out the group of men that felt “called by the Lord” to prison ministry. There was every flavor of denomination present from Baptist and Buddhist to Zoroaster and everything in between. The two he liked best were a salt and pepper team, Pastor Tom and Padre Frank. One or the other was always present on Thursday evening, sometimes both. And the two he disliked most were the same salt and pepper team. The black man looked like he should be playing the front line for a professional football team. He was not one to mess with. The other man was average in every way imaginable. What bothered Big Tony and some of the other inmates was that both preached Jesus Christ crucified, all men were sinners, and He was the only way of salvation.

  Many men would try to upset Pastor Tom while he was preaching. You could tell it irritated him, but he simply continued. No one gave Padre Frank any grief. That face’s eyes could turn from love to daggers in a split second, and no one did it more than once.

  One evening, when the commons area was packed with inmates for Bible study, and Pastor Tom was alone, the inmates tormented him without mercy. They wanted to break him. Big Tony led the verbal attack while the amused guards looked on, and he would never forget what happened. After the numerous taunts, Big Tony stood to his feet and sneered, “Little man, you got no balls.”

  The room roared with laughter. Pastor Tom stood and stared intently at the standing big man. He said nothing and continued to stare. The laughter died slowly, and the room grew quiet as a tomb. All could see Pastor Tom was mad, and they waited to see what he would do. Calmly, he walked to Big Tony and looked hard into the large man’s eyes. Big Tony winked one eye at the guards who stayed in their position to the left. He turned back and down into the smaller man’s eyes. Pastor Tom spoke forcefully, “I left one of my balls on a battlefield in Vietnam at a place called Ia Drang. Ever hear of it? Many good men died in those three days of hell, and I was one of the lucky ones who survived. Hundreds came back home in body bags.”

  A hush went through the crowded commons. One man coughed, and the guards stirred nervously. Ia Drang, Big Tony remembered that name. He’d been a medic in Vietnam and worked triage for causalities the choppers brought in. Ia Drang, now he remembered. That face staring at him was familiar. Now he recalled that hurting, blood-covered soldier as he was years ago who asked about his Indian friend. Big Tony lied to him and said the Indian would make it, but he knew he was already dead. This was the same man he treated on the last day of the terrible carnage.

  Big Tony stared at the man standing before him. His face became a smile, and he said, “Any man who served his country on a bloody battlefield is a man I can respect. Preacher, preach on. We want to hear what you got to say.”

  A buzz went through the inmates, and the guards breathed a sigh of relief. Pastor Tom walked back to the front and began to
preach. He spoke for twenty minutes, and the inmates hung on to every word. At the end, he asked who would be the first to take a courageous step forward, repent of his sins and accept Jesus Christ as savior and Lord.

  Ten men did. Big Tony was not one of them, but he never forgot that night. No one gave Pastor Tom grief anymore—Big Tony made sure of it. Though Pastor Tom never knew, he was under Big Tony’s protection while he was at the prison. A snitch a month later informed him that Looney Louie hated Pastor Tom for his bold preaching and was going to run a shiv in him during the coming Thursday service. Looney Louie had a terrible accident that broke both of his arms soon afterward. Big Tony made sure Looney Louie made all of Pastor Tom’s services in the coming weeks and never again was the preacher’s life threatened at the prison.

  Two months later, Big Tony from New Jersey was released. He received a special private thank you from the Warden in his office, along with the keys to a car waiting in the employee parking lot. Both men knew The Voice rewarded those completed successfully the work he gave them. Above all else, they knew you never wanted to disappoint the Voice.

  The following day, Big Tony waited in his new car parked in the visitor’s lot at the prison. He was expecting someone—someone he knew and wanted was being released today. About two o’clock, Leo, one of his snitches who had been the prison librarian, left the jailhouse. He was with another man Big Tony had seen in the prison but knew little about. Leo walked to Big Tony’s car that had blackout windows. Big Tony rolled one down about three inches and watched the men approach. He called out, “Leo.” Leo looked around nervously, but could not see where the voice calling his name came from. Big Tony called out again, “Leo, over here.” Leo saw Big Tony, motioned for the other man to stay back and walked to the car. “Leo, you still looking for something to do like we talked about?”

 

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