make everything all right but, Pastor Butch, it was a promise I didn’t keep very well. The longer I sat there and the longer I thought about what Edward did, the angrier I got. By around 10 that morning I’d had enough sitting. Hatred stewed in me and I wanted to hurt Edward. I knew exactly where to find him. It was Sunday, and he would be at church. Gwen and Gerry covered the youth for us, thinking that we’d not be at church at all. But I drove up into the parking lot sometime just before 11 and stormed into the auditorium.”
“Uh oh,” said Butch, in an unguarded thought.
“You’re right, Pastor, ‘Uh oh’ is right. I must have come into the worship area with the fierceness of a roaring lion and the speed of a mustang. The choir was all robed up and in the loft and Edward was right there, at the pulpit, practicing the solo piece he was gonna do during the offertory. I don’t remember exactly what happened first or really much at all. They say I took a music stand and swung it wildly and hit Edward in the face, knocking him off the platform. Then apparently I commenced to beating him over and over again. Later, I saw how much of Edward’s blood was on the carpet. I wailed upon him for what seemed like forever. I thought my rage would consume him and me both.
“Eventually a group of men pulled me off and separated us. They called an ambulance. I broke his nose and jaw and left several scars on his face which he took to his grave.”
“You killed him?” Butch asked. His eyes were wide and his mouth agape.
“No. He died about four years later in a motorcycle accident. He got drunk in a bar on one of the Indian reservations and ran his motorcycle off the road at 80 miles an hour. He wasn’t wearing a helmet. He died instantly, which, if you ask me, was too good for him. I wish he’d just laid there and languished for several hours in the cold watery ditch before bleeding out.”
Pointing at the letter and church papers still sitting there on Ransom’s desk Butch said, “So that is why they churched you, because you beat him up in the sanctuary?”
“Not exactly. I think they would have overlooked that, honestly. Those were rougher times, even though they weren’t that long ago. No, what got us in trouble was what happened next.”
Butch noticed the slip in Ransom’s narrative as he used the word, “us” to describe the situation.
“About a month later Penny discovered she was pregnant. Since we,” a blush formed on his tanned cheeks, “never slept together, and I mean that, we were pure, we knew who the father was. We also knew that we couldn’t keep it a secret because those things always make themselves known in the fullness of time. So, we went to Brother Paul, who was the pastor of Sydney Community then. We told him everything that happened. He told us that he would talk to the deacons about what to do next.
“Well, the deacons did indeed talk. The problem was that Edward’s father, or as you called him Old Buster Barnes, was the chairman of the deacons. They decided that Penny’s pregnancy was God’s judgment on our immorality and that I was spreading lies about Edward so they were going to expel both Penny and I from the congregation. They said they had to make an example out of us since we were leaders for the youth. The truth didn’t matter to them. Keeping the Barnes family happy—”
“—But Penny wasn’t churched,” Butch said. “In fact, I’d never heard her name before you spoke it.” The letter from the business meeting didn’t exactly match what Ransom told him.
“That’s right. Gwen and Gerald intervened because I asked them to. I told them to just church me and I would take full responsibility for it, which is what my letter, that you found, was all about. Brother Paul and Gerry convinced the deacons and they agreed to that. It protected her name and her honor, if only a little bit.
“I sat there, you know, in the very business meeting when they read my letter out loud and then voted to turn their back on me.”
His stomach churned as a confirmation from the Holy Spirit verified what he heard. Pastor Butch Gregory’s righteous indignation swelled. His church was guilty of a great sin. Injustice always stings, but when God’s people are the ones who enable it, or worse, as the case was here, when they are the ones who propagate the injustice and then multiply it manifold with a cover-up, it is worse than a stinging pain. It is an abomination. It is a special kind of blasphemy. He was ashamed of his church.
“Wow,” was all Butch could say as he crossed his legs and tugged at his pants leg near the foot. “I, I don’t know what to say. I guess I should start by saying how sorry I am, and I guess apologize for the whole church. I am so sorry. May I ask what happened after that, what happened to you and Penny?”
“Well, we got married, a little sooner than expected. We were married the day after Christmas, 1977 by the Justice of the Peace. The only two people there were Gerry and Gwen. We moved to Olympia and I took a job there with the Department of Ecology and have been there ever since. April Marie was born the week of Easter, 1978, almost a year to the day from when Penny and I recovered from our little break up. We raised April as my daughter and never told her anything about any of this. In fact, I haven’t talked to anyone about it since it happened.”
“You mean you and Penny never talk about it?”
“Penny died last year. She had a massive aortic aneurysm and died instantly. April lives in Seattle.”
“Did you ever have any other children?”
“No. Apparently, I am sterile. But I have no regrets. April is everything to me. She is married and has three boys. They all have blond curly hair, just like their mama.”
“Do you go to church? Do you still follow the Lord?” Butch felt compelled to ask.
“Yes, of course. Penny and I were part of a larger church in Olympia, and then about 25 years ago we helped plant a newer church and were proud to be one of the seven founding families of it. It is a good church.”
Pastor Butch Gregory scooted his chair close to the metal desk and stared into Ransom Rainey’s hazel eyes. “But you know what you need to do, don’t you Ransom. You need to come to Sydney Community and let us restore your name and remove this blot upon us—not you, but upon us. We need to ask you for forgiveness.”
That was when the dam broke. The somber, almost detached way he’d told the story of Penny’s trauma gave Butch the false impression thatRansom had dealt with all the emotions from his past. Yet when Butch said the word “forgiveness” aloud, the weathered face moistened with briny tears which turned into a convulsive heaving and wailing. Butch sat in his chair and prayed for the man.
The moment was interrupted when they both heard the front door shut. Two figures appeared in the doorway of Ransom’s office. It was Gerald and Gwen Land. Gwen rushed around and hugged the man and he melted in her arms. Butch stood up and he and Gerald looked at each other. Gerald shrugged and both men shared a moment of awkward confusion.
“You’re right,” Ransom finally said. “You’re right.”
“Right about what?” Gwen asked.
“I need to go back to Sydney and make things right. I need to tell April everything. She has a right to know. I’m not getting any younger, and now that Penny is gone,” he blew his nose, on a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket, “well, we need to do what we can. I need to fulfill my promise to her, the one I made that Sunday morning way back then and try to make this all right.”
Two months later, in the yearly business meeting of the Sydney Community Church, Gerald Land stood beside his wife Gwen, who stood beside her niece April and brother-in-law Ransom Rainey, who stood beside Pastor Butch Gregory as he told the story of the old injustice and made the suggestion that the church adopt the formal apology and restoration of Mr. Ransom Rainey as a brother in good standing at Sydney Community Church.
The motion passed, but not unanimously. Four influential members of the Barnes family, one of whom was on the board, spoke against the motion. They, along with the entire Bothers family and a spattering of other individuals voted against
it.
There would be consequences with these people later but he didn’t care about their angry phone calls or ridiculous emails. The right thing had been done.
Not many people at the meeting knew Ransom or the people involved so long ago, but the handful of sweet silver haired folks who walk with canes and wear hearing aids were warm, welcoming, and kind to the man from their past. Butch and Lucy hosted Ransom, April, Gwen, and Gerald for dinner at their home when the meeting ended. Ransom told Butch, “I feel like a great burden has been lifted. I wish we’d done this years ago.”
“Well,” Butch said, “a wise man once told me that when the dam is removed and the river can run its natural course, the land begins to heal on its own.”
Thank you for downloading this free story. If you like it, and want to read more about Pastor Butch Gregory as he faces the greatest challenge of his life, then we invite you to purchase Jamie Greening’s new thriller, the novel The Little Girl Waits. It is available in paperback, Kindle, and other eBook formats. For more information, visit www.thelittlegirlwaits.com
The Land Begins to Heal Page 5