by Edward Goble
They reached the corner and turned. The ladies were well ahead now, aiming, Dave thought, toward a white Chevy Cavalier, one of the last cars on the street. There were some walkers and a few joggers out, even at this hour, which made Dave feel like this may be a semi-safe area, which was good. A small woman being towed along by an enormous great dane paused as she reached Dawn and Shani. Dave heard them laugh as she said something that sounded exasperated, even from a distance of fifty feet. They had time to give the big dog a pat before he lurched on in the direction of Dave and Franny, owner in tow.
Dave couldn’t resist the opportunity, so he whispered to Franny, “Franny, look, a giant doggy.” The possibility roused the snoozing toddler a little, and she raised her head to see the approaching giant. Her eyes got big and round as she looked at the dog, then back at Mr. Dave like she was dreaming. She pointed in the direction of the dog with one hand as she gripped a little tighter to Dave’s neck with the other. “Big poopy,” she said softly as the dog passed, followed by his weary owner.
“Trade ya,” the lady groaned as she passed.
Dawn waved to Dave and Franny as the ladies reached the car well ahead of the slow pokes. She started the Cavalier, which came to life with a tortured sound, and pulled away from the curb, heading back out to Madras.
“She’s good people,” Shani said.
“You guys seem to hit it off.”
“Well, I kind of get her, as weird as that sounds.” They turned to walk back to Dave’s house, Dave holding Franny on one side and her mommy’s hand on the other. “Dawn is sort of that girl in high school that everyone is intimidated by. The girls avoid her and talk behind her back because she commands all the boys attention. The boys don’t ask her out because they feel she’s out of their league. And she winds up being hit on by upperclassmen and teachers that feel like they can take advantage of her. It’s sad. I mean you don’t realize it when you’re in the middle of it. But in hindsight, wow. And then you realize, unfortunately years later, that the poor girl was a real person, with feelings and fears and dreams, just like all the rest of us.”
“So, is it guilt for how you treated someone else that draws you to her?”
“No. I don’t know. I don’t think so. It’s just refreshing, I guess, to find out that she’s real. And she really is a wonderful person. I wish I’d known her my whole life. I don’t think I have any girlfriends I could say that about.”
“You are pretty great, do you know that?” he said.
“Well. I’m glad you think so. But there’s no comparison, you know? I’m short and square - ‘perky’ is the word people use. I can’t cook, I mean...” He stopped and turned toward her, she was now looking at him, her face a soft glow under the foggy street lamps.
“I told Franny something while we were walking, and I might as well tell you before she does.”
“What’s that?”
“I told her that I love her mommy. I love Franny’s mommy.”
She leaned in and buried her head against Daves chest, next to Franny’s bundled leg. She hugged them both tightly for a long time before the three turned and walked the rest of the way back to the house. Dave helped get the little one buckled in for the ride home and kissed Shani on the cheek as she got into the driver’s seat.
“Drive safely,” he said.
Shani looked up at him with loving eyes that said all he needed to hear and pulled onto the quiet street as he stood watching from the sidewalk, hands in the pockets of his jeans, wishing she didn’t have to leave.
Chapter 31
Pure will power had kept Madison from driving out to Madras the following morning to sit across from the Page residence as he had done at least once a week for the past month. Rarely had he caught a glimpse of the prize since that first day, but the thrill of the possibility and the exhilaration of his secret drove him to continue. This morning had been harder to resist than usual because he could still feel the embrace they had shared the previous night, could almost smell her hair and feel the strong shoulder where he had placed one hand and the distinct curvature in the firm skin on the small of her back where he had placed the other. He was able to snap out of her mental grasp because of the realization that Steve Franz, reporter for the Chronicle, was meeting him today for a second interview. The first had been in Madison’s office where Steve had been invited to observe a staff meeting, talk to some of the staff, and have some private time with Madison in his office.
This interview was to take place at a Starbucks coffee shop out in Madras. Madison had suggested it when Steve said he wanted to meet at a place away from the church where he could see Madison in public, yet not surrounded by people from his church. Steve wasn’t at all sure what he would gain from the interview, but he needed more than just facts and figures. What he needed was insight into the heart and mind of this up and coming leader of the church. It was the newspaper business and he needed as story, and he needed it fast. The schedule for the series demanded that Franz hit a deadline in three days if he wanted the front page of the Living Section. If he landed it, and it was his to lose, he would have his byline of the front page for three consecutive weeks, and, depending on the response, get a follow-up article down the road. This was good exposure and held the possibility for a regular byline. So, even though this all began as a favor for his old friend Paula Stone, it had become a potential career booster - if he played it right.
Madison and Franz stood in the short line to order their drinks and, when they stepped to the counter, he said to the reporter, “What would you like? This round is on me.”
Before Franz could answer, the barista said, “Pastor Enright. What a surprise.” It was Dawn Neilson.
“Oh, hello, Dawn. I didn’t know this was your store,” he said, veiling the truth.
“This is it,” she said.
“That’s great. Hey, let me introduce you to Steve Franz of the Chronicle. Steve, this is Dawn Neilson. She’s been coming to the church for a few months now.”
“Nice to meet you,” Franz nodded.
“And it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Franz. Well, what can I get started for you gentlemen today?” she asked. They ordered, then waited around the pick-up bar for their drinks and found a couple of seats at a table in the back.
“Pretty popular guy,” Steve began.
“It’s kind of strange, I admit. It seems like the closer we get to 1000 people, the wider our net is cast.”
“So you aren’t necessarily drawing more people from the neighborhood around the church.”
“Well, that’s our intention. But I think what happens is that people hear about us, or someone tells them about a program or something, and they make the drive and visit, and like what they find. Some of them decide that the commute is worth it.”
“So what does your membership map look like?”
“Mmm, probably the concentration would be people from there in Almond Grove, then the net kind of just spreads out from there. We have people, obviously, that commute the half hour from here, and, and we just had a housewarming party for a guy that lives on Telegraph Hill. The same is probably true to the south with a handful of people that commute from Pleasanton, Hayward and out there.”
“So people will drive past a dozen or more churches to get to the one they want.”
“People probably drive past hundreds to get to the one they want. It’s our mobile, impersonal, freedom of choice society at its best.”
“Or worst, possibly?”
“I might agree with that. Because people drive in and get their shot of love and then leave, and we have no way of forcing them into community. People can remain as anonymous as their heart’s desire.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Probably not. But again, that is the way of the world. And if we aren’t offering something that appeals to that desire, they will either stop attending church altogether, or they will find somewhere else. I figure they might as well be coming to Community Chapel.
Then, if a few lives are changed and a few families are restored and a few marriages healed, I guess we’ve done some good.”
“In the old days, the church was all about community. People were in the building three or four times a week, and their main relationships revolved around the church. Are those days history?” Franz asked, his tape recorder gathering all the answers.
“That’s still how it is in parts of the south and certainly in some foreign mission fields. But out here, that kind of church is aging and fading away. Now, maybe the trend will reverse, but probably not in my generation. I should say that the community dynamic does exist in the large churches, in ours, and the other large, or mega-churches in the region. You just don’t see it from the outside. It is a little harder to quantify, because it requires so much more commitment on the part of the member. But, take the young woman I introduced you to, for example. She is relatively new to the area, and she has been befriended and embraced by probably half a dozen people at the church, and they have welcomed her into their - for lack of a better term - community. And there are dozens, hundreds of little communities like that all around the church. They aren’t necessarily organized, and they aren’t administrated, but they exist as people are drawn to Christ and drawn to one another.”
Steve Franz clicked his recorder off and sat back. “Let’s take a little break and go off-record for a while. I’ve got to let some of this sink into this thick skull of mine.” He excused himself and went to the restroom and Madison sat back, adjusting his view of the front counter. Dawn was clearing tables in the lobby and stopped by to see if the men needed a refill on their drinks. Steve stepped out of the restroom in time to watch as Madison gave her both cups and watched as she walked back behind the counter. She passed Franz and said something that made him laugh as he returned to his seat. There was something about how Enright handed the girl the cups that didn’t sit right with the reporter. It was probably innocent enough, but he thought he saw something in the pastor’s eyes, or maybe he kept his grip on the cups for a split second too long, or the way his gaze followed her as she turned from the table. “Probably nothing,” he thought to himself. But then he reminded himself that “probably nothing” separated the good from the great among reporters. Those who sloughed things off to “probably nothing” got nowhere; whereas, those who followed hunches sometimes were rewarded with the kind of scoop that made their personal stock soar.
Chapter 32
“Who is the gorgeous guy in the blond hair?” Sherry said as Dawn came back from delivering the drinks.
“He’s the pastor of my church. And he’s married. So don’t get any ideas,” Dawn scolded.
“Not me, honey,” Sherry said. “It’s you he can’t take his eyes off.”
“You’re seeing things, Sherry. He’s a man of God, and he’s married to the sweetest woman in the world.”
“Mhmm.”
The men waved to the baristas as they left the store. Madison shook hands with Steve Franz who promised to send him a draft of the story as soon as he had something ready. “I’ll actually send it to Paula,” he said. “She’d have my head if I sent something upstairs about you without running it by her first. You’ve got a fireplug for an office manager over there. You realize that.”
“I know it. Probably don’t pay her enough, but don’t tell her.” They both had a laugh and parted company.
Chapter 33
Franz called Paula Stone as soon as the Taurus fired up, “Hey, hey, Paula,” he began, as always.
“Hi, Franz. Were you nice?”
“Of course I was. Your Pastor is a great guy. Articulate.”
“I know. And he better come off that way in your article.”
“I’ll tell you this, he’s a real pro. He only let me see what he wanted. Nothing questionable, nothing out of character.”
“But...”
“No, really. He gave a great interview, and I’ll report it as given. No worries.”
“You’ll send me a copy?”
“Better yet, go to dinner with me, and I’ll hand you the first draft.”
“You want to buy me dinner and give me the story? What’s your angle, buster?”
“I didn’t say I was going to buy.”
“Well, you’ll buy, or you’ll pay. Your choice.”
“You’re going to make some happy man very lucky some day.”
“Very lucky, indeed. Call me when it’s ready?”
“You got it. Take care.” It was odd flirting with a girl that worked in a church office, but his relationship with Paula Stone was pretty odd in the first place. He felt about four parts respect and admiration and one part physical attraction, which was completely backwards for him. The scary thing was he could see himself in a relationship with her. ‘Franz and the church girl,’ he thought as he closed the phone and adjusted himself in the driver’s seat, looking straight ahead, his mind trying to identify something just outside its grasp. He decided to play a small hunch. He looked around and made sure that Pastor Enright had left the parking lot, grabbed his pocket recorder and went back inside the store. He spoke to Sherry first.
“Hello, ma’am, I’m Steve Franz from the Chronicle.” He gave her a business card. “I’m doing a story on the gentleman I was just here with, about his church, and he mentioned that this young lady,” gesturing to Dawn Neilson, “attends the church. I was wondering if I might talk to her for a few minutes.”
Sherry looked at the card and sized up Mr. Franz. He seemed on the level. Their regular business among male customers had picked up since Dawn had started working there, which is why Sherry had been so accommodating when Dawn asked to switch to days, more coffee drinkers in the morning, and more of them were coming in every day now, which she hadn’t mentioned to Dawn. Some of these “regulars” had tried their luck with Dawn, only to be politely rebuffed, but this didn’t seem like one of those, so she allowed him past the gauntlet. “I’ll see if she has break time coming.” Sherry went and whispered something in Dawn’s ear, causing Dawn to look over, her face straight but pleasant. She nodded and turned the other direction, ducking into the back momentarily and emerging without her apron.
“Hi again,” Dawn smiled. “What can I do for you?”
“Can we talk outside?” he asked.
They sat at one of the wrought iron tables under a green umbrella that wasn’t adjusted quite right for the afternoon sun. The observant eyes of Steve Franz were able to see much more in the eyes and posture of Dawn Neilson than she was aware.
“Thanks, Miss Neilson, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. Call me Dawn.”
“Dawn then. I’m Steve. I’m doing an article on Pastor Enright, and, since he mentioned that you attend the church, I thought you might give me some additional insight into the man and the ministry.”
“Probably not. I’ve just been going there a few months. It’s good though. It’s a good church.”
“Actually, you are exactly what I was hoping to find, a new attendee. Your experience is fresh and real. I’d like to hear about it.”
Dawn gave Mr. Franz a sketch of her introduction to Community Chapel - no details - just that she was having some problems, came to them for help, and was immediately embraced and accepted.
“That’s great. That is exactly what I’m hearing from everyone. It’s a pretty great place. How about Pastor Enright. What is your feeling about him?”
“He’s a wonderful man. Safe, you know? He really cares.”
“Safe. Interesting choice of words.”
“It just seems like people, men, I guess, often have another agenda in their relationships. I don’t see that in Pastor Enright. It’s the same with Mrs. Enright. They are just...” Even as she was speaking, she awoke to the fact that she wasn’t as certain of her Pastor’s piety as her words suggested. She began playing things over in her mind, the way he watched her, the way his hug had seemed different from the others and the way he appeared to stare at her feet and l
egs at the housewarming, making her wish she hadn’t worn a dress. It was probably nothing. Her past had caused her to be overly sensitive, and she snapped out of it almost immediately. “They are down to earth, wonderful people.”
“You look like you want to say more.”
“No.” She smiled and Franz saw what was causing Sherry’s business to blossom. Her beauty was disarming. “I guess that’s about all I know. Have you talked to Mrs. Enright? You know what they say - ‘behind every great man...’”
“That’s my next stop. Dawn, I want to thank you for talking to me and sharing your perspective. It was truly helpful.”
“My pleasure, Mr. Franz.” Calling someone close to her own age mister was a nice way of saying, “Don’t get any ideas.” She thought it was subliminal, but Steve just smiled and extended his hand.
“Thanks again.” His mind was spinning more rapidly than before. There was something behind her words that he couldn’t quite catch. Probably nothing, he assured himself, which, to Steve Franz, was permission to dig a little deeper.
Chapter 34
The one luxury that the Enrights installed in their cabin in Siskiyou County was high-speed satellite Internet. Madison used many of the Pastoral resource web-sites for his sermon preparation and felt like satellite Internet would be more convenient than hauling a trunk-load of books up to the cabin each time he got away to study. So packing was as easy as shutting down his iBook, putting it and the power supply in his briefcase, and grabbing some clothes and food. He would have Thursday and Friday to study, then Dave Bean was coming up to fish on Saturday, leaving early the next morning, while Madison would head home sometime Sunday afternoon.
Jill took the occasion to fly out to see her parents in Ponca City. It was early enough in her pregnancy that it was safe, plus Grandpa and Grandma needed a Billy-fix. Madison had arrived at the cabin late Wednesday night and promptly started a fire in the wood stove. Even in August, the night air could be crisp and uncomfortable at this atmosphere if you weren’t used to it. He probably wouldn’t need a fire the rest of the stay, just this one to get the chill off the place.
Sleep was hard to find - it had been for months now - the images sailing before his mind’s eye contradictory, both exciting and discomforting. With all the good going on in his life, the growing church, the new baby on the way, the major conference, there was also a dark cloud looming. A cloud that he knew could pass, if he could muster the will power to allow it.