“A second double?”
“It’s been a tough day.”
Allison handed Eric his drink. “I liked what you said today at the funeral about Big Al, characterizing him as a fierce warrior for Christ and a generous friend to most people, forgiving to all, a man who loved his biological family and his brothers and sisters in Christ. Your description fits the man.”
“Thanks.” Eric took a big swallow of his Wild Turkey. “I wish Sister Ruth could have been at the funeral.”
“You can take a DVD player with a disc of the funeral and the burial to her room. She might enjoy seeing all the people who turned out for Big Al’s crossing-over ceremonies, and hearing all the tributes, including your eulogy.”
“I’ll go to her tomorrow after school so I can take Cathy with me.”
“Eric, my beloved, you must have seen many of your brothers and sisters in arms die or be seriously wounded in combat.”
“Too damn many.”
“What about this particular death of a fellow warrior for Christ has discombobulated you so much?”
“For one thing, I never had to conduct the funeral and burial services, what you call crossing-over ceremonies, for my former comrades.”
“Yet you mourned their loss?”
“I did.” Eric paused for another swallow of his drink. “Warriors expect death and wounds, even their own, as a consequence of what we do. We compartmentalize the prospect and keep soldering on.”
“We knew Big Al had health issues. His death could not have been entirely a surprise. Besides, all of us die.” Allison smiled at her husband. “You’ll soldier on despite the loss of Big Al?”
“I will.” Eric held out his glass for a refill. “I didn’t expect Big Al’s death so soon, and I looked forward to what he and I planned to do at Aldersgate, along with you, Miz Lizbeth, and others.”
“We’ll go forward under your leadership. The troops have massed, we’re ready to advance. Sound the charge!” Allison saluted Eric as she gave him his refilled glass. “Tonight you’ve earned some rest.”
“I’m relaxed while remaining vigilant.”
“I know you rely upon the comfort of the Holy Spirit.”
“I do.”
Allison’s eyes sparkled. “Later tonight, I’ll provide you some physical and emotional comfort, in a very tangible fashion—if you don’t drink too much.”
Joseph and Cathy came into the room. “Cathy,” Joseph spoke through his impish grin, “because you’re a full member of this family, I need to tell you one of the major rules of the house.”
“Which is?” Cathy asked.
“You heard what Mom told Reverend Eric as we came into the room?”
“I did.”
“They’re planning on having sex tonight, which brings us to the rule.”
Cathy grimaced. “Joseph, your Mom and Reverend Eric aren’t simply having sex, they’re making love with each other.”
“Whatever. When they close their bedroom door, we can’t bother them except in the case of a true emergency.”
“The rule sounds eminently sensible to me.”
“You can rely on me for anything other than an extreme emergency that would cause us to knock on Mom and Reverend Eric’s door.”
Cathy shook her head and looked at Eric. “Maybe you should teach Joseph some fighting moves. As we all know, he’s not a street fighter.”
“Joseph and Cathy, I’m busy tomorrow preparing for my sermon for Sunday.”
Before Eric could continue, Allison said, “All the events associated with Big Al’s funeral and burial have prevented Eric from preparing his Sunday sermon to his exacting standards.”
“He likes to be prepared, doesn’t he?” Joseph asked,
“I think,” Cathy said, “he’s like one of Robert Rogers’ Rangers.”
Eric, bemused, asked, “What in the world do you know about Rogers’ Rangers?”
“I read about them for an extra credit report on the French and Indian Wars, before the American Revolution.”
“So,” Joseph asked, “What’s the point?”
“The Rangers’ motto was Don’t ever forget nothing.”
Eric looked at Allison. “Can we possibly keep up with these two?”
“Probably not,” Allison said. “Our best hope will be to channel them in appropriate directions.”
“In my former life, we lived by Rogers’ Rules,” Eric said.
“Are you ever going to tell us more about your former life?” Joseph asked.
“As time goes by.”
“A semi-definitive answer,” Joseph said. “Were you also a lawyer in your former life?”
“Joseph,” Cathy said, “we’re being diverted.”
“I’m obviously busy tomorrow and I’m not sure about what will happen on Sunday afternoon. Monday, after you come home from school and have a snack, I’ll begin your first lessons in self-defense.”
Cathy punched Joseph on his shoulder. “See, he’s including me in the lessons. He’s an equal-opportunity, enlightened male.”
“Do the self-defense lessons include learning to shoot?” Joseph asked.
“Joseph,” Allison frowned at her son, “don’t push the envelope.”
Eric smiled. “In due time, we’ll get to live fire training.”
“Our segue,” Cathy spoke to Joseph.
“I’d like to purse the firearms training.”
“Be patient.”
Allison asked, “Segue into what subject?”
Joseph stood tall. “I prefer to call Reverend Eric Dad.” He rushed on before anyone could interrupt him. “Mom, I thoroughly understand I have a biological father.” He shrugged his shoulders. “The guy has never been around, and I don’t think of him as my father.”
“He’s not a totally bad person,” Allison said.
“Depends on your definition of bad,” Joseph said. “The point I want to make concerns,” he pointed to Eric, “this man I’ve been calling Reverend Eric. He’s present. I intend to call him Dad from now on. For all practical and theoretical purposes, he’s my father.”
Before Eric could reply, Cathy said, “I’ve never had a mother or father, except in the biological sense. My grandparents provided the parental support I needed. Allison, this adoption, will it go through?”
“Yes,” Allison said. “I will make the adoption happen, even if I have to go all the way to SCOTUS.”
“The Supreme Court of the United States?”
“Yes. However, we’re unlikely to need to go any further than the Alexander County Superior Court.”
“Like Joseph, I’ve never had a father. Unlike him, I haven’t had a mother,” Cathy said.
“You’re completely in this family, Cathy,” Allison said.
“As a full member of this family, Allison, I’d like to call you Mother or Mom, from this point on.”
Tears filled Allison’s eyes. “And you’re my daughter.” The two women embraced.
Cathy turned to Eric. “I want you to be my father. If you agree, I’ll call you Dad from now on.”
Eric subdued the lump in his throat. “Cathy, you’re my daughter. Joseph, you’re my son.” Eric reached out to pull Joseph and Cathy close in a tight embrace.
Joseph, pulling away from Eric, let out an audible sigh. “Enough already. We’re family.” He looked at Cathy, then at Allison. “Mom, the incest laws don’t apply to Cathy and me, do they? We’re adopted brother and sister, not related by blood.”
Allison tried hard not to laugh. “On that point of law, you’re correct.”
Cathy, still held close in Eric’s embrace, laughed. “Joseph, you never give up, do you?”
“I’m simply following Sir Winston’s advice: Never, never, never give up.”
“Mom, Dad,” Cathy said, “don’t worry. I’ll help keep him under control. It’ll be easier with me in the family.”
“How,” Joseph asked, “do you expect to control the uncontrollable?” He looked at Cathy. “I can be p
atient.”
Cathy smiled. “Time’s on our side, Joseph.”
CHAPTER 36
Sunday, 02 November
Dad,” Joseph opened the post-dinner conversation, “you definitely know how to cook great steaks.”
“Thanks. Having the Big Green Egg helps. Watch me another couple of times and I’ll delegate you to be the family steak chef.”
“I also liked the garlic mashed potatoes and salad Mom and Cathy prepared.”
Allison smiled at her daughter. “Cathy, you know a lot about cooking. Did Sister Ruth teach you?”
“Yes, Mom,” Cathy said. “I helped Granny a lot during the months before she went to stay at Hill Haven.”
“Do you know how to cook breakfast?” Joseph asked Cathy.
“Of course.”
“You can also make real coffee?”
“Sure.”
“Then we can cook real breakfasts together—eggs, bacon, grits—that kind of food.”
“We’ll have to get up earlier than we do now, if we’re going to cook breakfast before we leave for school.”
“No problemo,” Joseph said. “I’m tired of cereal and toast morning after morning. I want some real he-man food to start the day.”
“Deal. Mom and Dad can eat with us or continue going to Jean’s.” Cathy looked to Allison. “A limit of two cups of coffee for Joseph?”
Allison asked, “Can you enforce the limit?”
“I can and I will.”
Joseph said, “I agree to two cups,” he paused, “for now.”
“Mom,” Cathy asked, “do we have everything we need?”
“I’ll go shopping tomorrow in order to fill the larder. Do you want to make coffee from the beans, grind your own?”
“Yes,” Joseph said, “just like Jean does.”
“I’ll buy some beans from Jean in the morning.” Allison smiled at Eric. “I guess we’d better plan on a shopping expedition to Toccoa or Anderson tomorrow. I doubt our local stores carry the equipment we need.”
“Sounds like a great idea,” Eric said. “You have free time in your schedule?”
“I do, if we go early in the morning.”
“We can leave from Jean’s.”
Joseph and Cathy exchanged glances. He opened the next phase of the conversion. “We settled the breakfast affairs, everyone seems to be in a good mood, and we have plenty of time before lights out.”
“You have something in mind?” Allison asked.
“Always.”
“Joseph and I think tonight would be a good time for Dad to tell us why he became a minister, what led him to leave the Army and preach the Gospel.”
“What a wonderful idea,” Allison said, looking intently at Eric. “Provided my beloved husband—”
Cathy and Joseph spoke in unison, “And our beloved father.”
“Provided he agrees,” Allison said.
Eric laughed. “How can I oppose such a well-thought out and well-presented plan? Let me tell you a story,” he began, his mind going back to his last day in Afghanistan.
“As your Mom knows, I was severely wounded in my last battle,” Eric began.
“How?” Joseph asked.
“From a rocket propelled grenade that blew up next to me.”
“An RPG?” Joseph asked.
“That’s right. Shrapnel from the weapon wounded me in several places and gave me a concussion.”
“Where did the battle take place?” Joseph persisted.
“Joseph, quit asking so many questions and led Dad get on with his story,” Cathy said.
“In the mountains along the Afghanistan-Pakistan border,” Eric went on. “We captured a top-level family member of the Haqqani terrorist organization that had bases in Pakistan but fomented all kinds of trouble in Afghanistan.”
“All right, I’ll be quiet, for the time being,” Joseph said.
“Praise God for small blessings!” Cathy exclaimed.
“I regained some semblance of consciousness,” Eric continued, “when the medevac helicopter landed at Bagram Air Base. Because I was doped up, I had great trouble focusing my mind but I wasn’t in any pain. The medevac team put me in an ambulance and I thankfully drifted back into unconsciousness.
“I awoke a few hours later to find Buckshot leaning over my bed. He called me a conquering hero, and told me I would be transferred first to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany and then to Walter Reed Medical Center in Washington, D.C. for treatment and recovery from my extensive wounds. He also told me that the team suffered no other casualties other than the deaths of Sergeants Morse and Smith. When I asked about Haqqani, Buckshot laughed when he recounted how the terrorist had already begun spilling his guts to Army interrogators out of fear he’d be turned over to the CIA and sent to Gitmo. Before Buckshot left he told me to rest easy, that I had done my duty, and that I should enjoy the ride home.
“I don’t remember much about the flight to Landstuhl. I have dim memories of the aftermath of several surgeries to repair my wounds because the pain meds were very effective. I was flown to Walter Reed. My real painful memories began with the physical therapy sessions necessary for my recovery. I called the therapists well-intentioned masochists, but they assured me I would fully recover if I worked hard. They were right.
“Buckshot showed up again near the end of my stay at Walter Reed. He had been promoted to brigadier general. He informed me all my men would be awarded Silver Stars and I would receive the Medal of Honor from the president in a closed ceremony at the hospital.”
“Why closed?” Cathy asked.
“The Army didn’t want the Taliban and Pakistanis to know for sure that we had Haqqani or where the battle had taken place.”
“Plausible deniability,” Allison said.
“That’s right,” Eric nodded.
“On the night before Easter, I was listening through my MP3 player to the Easter sections of Handel’s Messiah because I couldn’t sleep. A blue light filled my room after the Amen at the end of the oratorio. A voice called to me, seemingly from inside my head.” Eric paused.
“What did the voice say?” Joseph asked.
“It called me My son.”
“What did you answer?” Cathy asked.
“I remembered the proper words: Speak, Lord. Your servant listens. The voice went on to say that my heroic warfare was over, that I had completed one phase of my duty, and that I would now serve on another battlefield. When I asked where and how, the voice said I would preach the gospel from the pulpit. I understood I was to resign from the Army and go to seminary in preparation for the ministry. I had been in the Army for twenty years, which meant I could retire with a full pension and benefits. So here we are.”
“You really had a Come to Jesus moment,” Joseph said. “Something like St. Paul’s experience on the Damascus Road, except you were in bed in the hospital.”
“Joseph, you should have said Dad had an epiphany,” Cathy.
“I suppose you can classify what happened in the hospital room as an epiphany,” Eric said.
“Or a return to reality,” Allison observed.
“Some people,” Eric responded, “would say my encounter with the divine represented a homecoming.”
“You have no doubts about God speaking to you?” Joseph asked,”
“None, although I felt Jesus was talking with me, rather the Godhead.”
“Joseph, no theological discussions about the Holy Trinity,” Cathy insisted. “God, regardless of the expression of the divine, spoke to Dad, and he responded.”
“I agree. Theological discussions later on,” Joseph answered. “But, Dad, do you have any inner conflicts between your present and former professions?”
Cathy rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Joseph, Dad doesn’t act, talk, or even look like he has such conflicts.”
“I resolved them before my ordination,” Eric said.
“Your sermons at Aldersgate on this subject have found a lot of resonance with our r
etired military folks,” Allison said.
Joseph, in an unconscious imitation of his mother, raised his eyebrows with his eyes sparkling. “Dad, you sometimes, even now, release the tiger of violence.”
“Joseph!” Cathy admonished.
“Cathy, I was present when our dad ‘neutralized’ Whitfield and his minion.”
“So what?” she retorted.
“I saw the tiger first-hand when Dad took out Whitfield.”
“Something I wish you had not seen, necessary as my actions were,” Eric said.
“Cathy,” Joseph said, “Mom and Dad both know I played an active part in putting Whitfield out of action.”
“The diversion you created?” Cathy asked
“I did what Dad told me to do. He used the word diversion talking to Whitfield, but I knew he was talking to me.” Joseph clapped his hands. “I have only one regret.”
“What’s that?” Cathy asked.
“I didn’t have an opportunity to shoot Whitfield myself.”
“You performed the duty assigned to you,” Eric said.
Cathy hugged Joseph. “My champion!”
CHAPTER 37
Sunday, 16 November
Earlier in the week, Cathy had walked by the door to Eric’s study, where he was working on his sermon for Sunday. Eric looked up from his laptop computer, “Hey, Cathy. What’s up?”
“You’re preparing your sermon for Sunday?”
“I am.”
“What’s the topic?”
“I Am Making All Things New.”
“From Revelation?”
“Indeed.”
“What’s the specific reference?”
“Revelation 21:1-7.”
“The new heaven and new Earth?”
“Right.”
“Who’s the lector?”
“Reverend Parker.”
“Our new associate minister?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think she’d mind if I read the Scripture for the eleven o’clock service?”
“The congregation, Reverend Parker, and I will be delighted for you to read the Scripture lesson.” He wrote the reference on a piece of notepaper, which he handed to his daughter.
“Don’t worry. I’ll practice a few times before Sunday. I won’t embarrass the family.”
Comfort and Affliction Page 26