by Randy Alcorn
“Gotta have the rock, TJ.”
“You gotta pay for the rock. Why you comin’ to me? I sell to ballers, not junkies.”
“I all cashed out, brah. You said you’d always take care of me.”
“Only when you took care of me. You was one fine delivery boy, but you got bit by the product.”
“Can’t help it, man.”
“Don’t come whinin’ to me. You ain’t got no more bones.”
“Need a place to crash, man.”
“Go to your own crib.”
“Mama kicked me out. Locks the doors. Sisters won’t let me in either.”
“’Cause you been stealin’ from ’em, lyin’, and cheatin’, huh, tiny? You deebo yo mama’s credit card?”
“How you know that?”
“It’s what the rock does. It’s da masta; you da slave. Price you pay. If people not payin’ the price, TJ wouldn’t be makin’ the bank. You can’t handle the big stuff, you shoulda just stuck with hood scratch, man.”
“I keep crashin’, man. Goin’ through the jonesin’. Bugs crawlin’ under my skin. Big ones. Freakin’ me.”
“You a sorry fool. Look at you, all raggedy and geeked up.”
“Scared of everything now, TJ. Tired, man, so tired. They’re comin’ after me.”
“Who’s comin’ after you, fool?”
Chewy hadn’t stood still since he’d arrived. Now his fidgets and twitches became spasms. His hands moved constantly, scratching at his face and arms one moment and reaching out the next in shaky gesticulations as if to ward off something unseen.
“Spirits. With big mouths. Sharp teeth. They tryin’ to swallow me up. Help me, TJ!”
“One day them demons with the big mouths and sharp teeth?” TJ grabbed a clump of Chewy’s sparse hair and pulled him close. “They gonna eat yo flesh and pick their teeth with yo bones. Whachu think about that?”
“No! No! Help me, man! Please help me.”
TJ threw him to the ground. “Time for you to bounce, fool!” TJ gestured to Antoine. “Take out the trash.”
Emily stood on the lawn by the driver’s side door of his truck. She held out her hand to her father.
“Daddy, come dance with me.”
Adam wanted to follow her lead, but his arms were frozen.
“Please, Daddy! Just for this song. Come dance with me.”
“Corporal Mitchell. Hey, Mitchell!”
Sergeant Murphy?
Adam found himself in the muster room; the other officers stared.
“I’m sorry. I . . . uh . . .”
Brad Bronson looked away, embarrassed for Adam. But Adam was embarrassed enough. He didn’t need any help.
Murphy continued, “With the three arrested yesterday, that’s sixty burglary suspects we’ve rounded up this month. Yesterday at McKinley Street, we arrested three suspects affiliated with the Gangster Nation. We confiscated a load of handgun ammo, shotgun shells, and two assault knives with nine-inch blades.”
Shane nudged Adam. Adam gestured that he was fine.
He wasn’t.
Chapter Thirty
Javier Martinez was filling spools at the thread factory when a custodian wearing coke-bottle glasses tapped him on the shoulder and spoke loudly into his ear. “Boss wants to see you.”
Javier cringed. Last time a boss wanted to see me, I lost my job.
He walked down the hallway to the office of Frank Tyson, factory manager. Javier knocked. Mr. Tyson’s assistant, Walter, opened the door, then stepped aside for Javy.
“Mr. Martinez, have a seat,” Frank Tyson quietly commanded from his chair in the paneled office.
“Thank you, sir.”
Javier tried not to fidget like Carmen said he did when nervous. He focused on the man sitting across the desk. Medium build, with thinning black hair and a quiet, confident air, Frank Tyson examined a sheet of paper on his desk while he spoke.
“I see you’ve been very productive in your first month here. You do good work.”
Javier smiled. “I’m grateful to be here.”
“Mr. Martinez, I need an additional manager to oversee inventory and shipping. It carries more responsibility and would pay more. Is that something you’d be interested in?”
“Oh yes, sir.”
“Good. Before I make my final decision, I’d like you to take a shift next week in that department.” Mr. Tyson took off his reading glasses and picked up another piece of paper, which he handed to Javier. “On this sheet, you’ll see a list of seventeen crates. One of these crates will be taken to a separate warehouse. When you report the inventory, I want you to report that we received sixteen.”
Javier stared at it, then looked up at Frank. “Seventeen will come in, but you want me to report only sixteen?”
“That’s right. I have another purpose for the extra crate. But for your help with this, you’ll get a $2,000 bonus. How’s that sound?”
Frank paused. “You’re on my team, right? Because I really can’t use people who aren’t on my team. Do you understand?”
Javier glanced at Frank, then at Walter, who stared at him soberly.
“I’ll tell you what, Mr. Martinez. You think it over tonight, then let me know tomorrow. Come to my office at 10:00 a.m. I need to know whether you really want this job.”
Javier stood. “Good evening, sir,” he said. Shoulders slumped, Javier walked slowly back to his post.
That evening, after dinner with his family, Adam walked to the front room and sat. Bartkowski had relocated, but now Adam had established a new routine. Before leaving the house each morning, he would look at the Resolution, choose one line, and ask God to help him live it out. This evening he read it all.
Maggie saw him to the door when he left, just as she greeted him when he came home. He suspected her memories of life as an outdoor dog were growing dim.
Adam got on his knees and scratched her. He wished he’d entered Maggie’s world while Emily was still part of it. But he was grateful for Maggie and the way she seemed like a conduit to memories of Emily. He patted her on the head one final time before he left.
Adam drove three miles up Westover Boulevard and parked across from the bank and by the big oak tree—the same place Emily had asked him to dance. He unwrapped a brand-new CD and slid it into the player. Emily’s song began.
I’d like to sail to lands afar
out on a boat that’s built for two.
Beneath the canopy of stars
that would be just like a dream come true.
Just to be with you.
As the song played, Adam closed his eyes.
He heard Emily’s voice say how she loved this song. Adam opened the door, turned up the volume, and put his feet on the ground. Then he got out and went to the exact place Emily had stood. He heard Emily instruct him how to dance with her as if it had been just a moment ago.
“When you’re ready to dance with me, this is what you do. First, you put your right hand around my waist like this.”
Adam closed his eyes again and reached out his right hand. He could see her so clearly, it took his breath away. Emily was there with him. Wasn’t she?
“Then hold your other hand out like this.”
He held up his other hand as if to take hers.
“Then we sway back and forth to the music. And . . . we can spin.”
Adam began slowly. He took small steps back and forth to the rhythm. He turned as if to lead Emily in the dance as she twirled at the end of his hand.
As the song continued, tears streamed down his cheeks.
I’d like a castle on a hill,
where you and I could spend a day.
And I’d love to go where time stands still
and all that doesn’t matter fades away.
You are here with me.
Smiling slightly, Adam kept his eyes closed and let the song play as he continued the dance he never shared with Emily.
When the song ended, Adam opened his eyes and drew his hands
up to his face, fingers clasped together.
“Lord, thank You for the nine years I had with Emily. I’m so grateful.” He hesitated, then said, “I don’t know if I can ask You this or not. But would You tell her I did my side of the dance?”
A beautiful girl, eyes sparkling, put her little hand into the big hand of the Carpenter-King. He stroked her hair, then picked her up effortlessly. He smiled at her warmly, delighting in her as one delights in His most wonderful creation.
“One day, after the resurrection, you will sit with your family again at a great table, and we will all feast together.”
Her eyes widened. “Will I dance with Daddy then?”
“Yes, Emily. You will dance with him in your new body on a new earth. Your father will cherish that dance as much as you will. It’ll be my gift to him—and to you.”
She squealed with delight. “I can hardly wait!”
He put her down. “Why don’t you and I dance together now?”
He reached out to her. She placed her hand in His. She saw, then felt, the great scars. But they didn’t frighten her. Rather, they reminded her of the price He had paid, in the other world, to show His love and purchase her entrance into this world.
The Carpenter led Emily in the dance. She swayed, giggling, then laughed loudly as she twirled at the end of His hand.
She was at home, with the Person she was made for, in the place made for her.
Emily Mitchell had never felt so happy. Joy was the air she breathed.
Javier and Carmen sat across from each other at their kitchen table. Javier’s face had been carefree lately. Not today.
“Javy, we need this job. For the first time in a year, we are able to pay the bills.”
“I know. But Mr. Tyson made it clear that if I was not a team player, he did not want me there.”
“But he’s the manager. Isn’t he free to handle inventory how he wants? Maybe it just looked wrong, but it’s really okay.”
“He asked me to record false information, Carmen. He asked me to lie.”
“But surely he will not fire you if you refuse!”
Javier stared at the wall. “It sounded like he would.”
“But we need this job.”
It hurt Javy to hear her despair. She was such a good wife and mother. Something told him he owed it to her and the children to do what Mr. Tyson was asking. Something else told him he owed it to them and God not to.
“You know I would like to keep this job. But if I did this because you wanted me to, you would lose respect for me. And I would lose respect for myself. Carmen, how could we tell our children to do what is honorable when we have not?”
He pointed to the Resolution on the wall. “‘I will . . . walk with integrity as a man answerable to God. I will seek to honor God.’ I should not have signed that unless I meant it.”
“When do you have to let him know?”
“Ten o’clock.”
“Javy, promise me if he lets you go, you will call me as soon as you leave his office. If you do not call, I will know everything is okay.”
He agreed.
“Javy . . . I don’t want us to go back.”
“I know. We need to pray. I think we should explain it to the children and ask them to pray with us.”
“They are too young to understand it all. And if you get fired, they may not understand why God did not answer.”
“God listens to the prayers of His children. And if they are to know our God, they must know that He answers prayer and that when He answers no, we should still trust Him.”
The children joined them. They explained the situation and prayed together.
If I am so moved by the prayers of my children, Lord, surely You must be.
After five miles, Adam leaned over, hands on his thighs, catching his breath. “You know how good I always say it feels when I stop running?”
“Yeah?” Dylan said.
“Well, this was the first time I’ve ever felt good when I was running.” He tried not to breathe too hard and spoil the effect of his words. “I think I was . . . in the groove.”
“You mean in the zone? Runner’s high?”
“Yeah, that’s it. I could understand Eric Liddell when he said, ‘God made me fast. And when I run, I feel God’s pleasure.’”
“Yeah. I get that. Except the part about God making you fast.”
Adam pushed his son’s shoulder.
Dylan laughed. “I’ve thought a lot about Eric Liddell—how he stood up for what he believed. I did that today.”
“You did?”
“In science class I said something about intelligent design I got from those videos you showed me. A couple of students rolled their eyes like we must be idiots to believe in a Creator, but I figured, so what? I mean, it didn’t cost me a gold medal.”
“That’s good, Son. A man takes a stand for his convictions. Truth is, I never spoke up like that when I was your age. If I had it to do over again, I would.”
“Can’t you still do it?” Dylan asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re not in school, but you work around people who don’t believe in God, right?”
“Sure, a lot of them.”
“Then you still have a chance to speak up, don’t you?”
Adam looked at his son. “I guess I do. So maybe instead of regretting the opportunities I missed, I should be taking the ones I have?”
Dylan smiled, then took off running.
Chapter Thirty-one
The men sat at the Cookie Shop, an Albany legend, happily downing homemade baklava and chocolate nut surprise and enjoying endless coffee refills.
Javier described his meeting at the factory.
“Frank Tyson wants you to lie?” Adam said. “He’s a deacon at my church! He’s the guy I asked about your job!”
“I was surprised. But Carmen said maybe that’s the way they do business.”
“But he’ll hand you $2,000 to do it? That’s a payoff!”
“Maybe you don’t see the full picture,” Shane said. “I know Frank Tyson. I don’t think he’s dishonest. Before you say no, hear him out. And a $2,000 bonus? Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Or as Adam once put it, ‘Don’t kick a gift horse in the teeth.’”
Adam smirked but couldn’t deny it.
Javy lifted his hands. “I need this job. I don’t want to let down Carmen.”
“But you’ve got to be honest,” Nathan said.
“I still say let him explain,” Shane said. “But sure, in the end, honesty’s the best policy.”
Adam wasn’t so willing to let Tyson off the hook. The guy was a church leader. Where did he get off putting Javy up to something shady?
Javy said, “I would like to hear your opinion, David.”
David looked at all the men, then back at Javy. “Well, I think you have to be able to live with yourself. I’ve been able to live with my conscience for the first time I can remember. Obviously my faith in Christ is a big part of it. But so is making things right with Amanda. Javier, you might think you should keep the Resolution about providing for your family, right? But if you violate the points about honesty and accountability to God, that would be wrong. So if you’re a Jesus follower, shouldn’t you say to your boss, ‘Jesus followers can’t lie like that’?”
Adam gaped. Where did he get such insight?
“You are a wise man, David,” Javier said. “Thank you.”
David swallowed hard. “You’re welcome.”
Adam looked at the young deputy. “You just spoke to me too, David. I remember something that happened when I was at the police academy with Shane and Bronson. A young man—in fact it was Brock Kelley, the football player from Shiloh Academy—asked how it worked for a Christian to be a cop. I answered, but I didn’t have the guts to come right out and say I was a Christian. At the time it seemed wise. But the truth is, it was cowardly.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Shane said.
&nbs
p; “To keep the Resolution, we have to be hard on ourselves. A good athlete never trains easy. And when he competes, the hard work pays off. So, Javy, we’ll pray for you. If you lose your job, so be it. We’ll stand behind you and do everything we can to help. Including finding you a new job.”
Adam looked at Shane and whispered, “And if Frank Tyson loses his job as deacon, so be it!”
Javier looked at the big factory clock and walked toward Frank Tyson’s office. He paused to pray. After taking a deep breath, he knocked three times. The door opened and Walter let him in.
“Good morning.”
Tyson kept writing while Javier stood across the desk from him. “Hello, Mr. Martinez. How are you today?”
“Fine, sir. How are you?”
“I don’t know yet. Have a seat. I trust you thought about our conversation yesterday.”
“Yes, sir, I did.” Javier sat.
Mr. Tyson stopped writing and glanced up. “Well. What did you decide, Mr. Martinez? Are you on my team?”
Javier swallowed hard, then with a steady gaze said, “Mr. Tyson, I am very grateful to have a job here. But . . . I cannot do as you have asked.”
Frank Tyson regarded him a moment, then leaned back in his chair. “And why is that?”
“Because it is wrong, sir. It would dishonor God and my family if I lied.”
Frank studied Javier’s face, then looked at Walter, clearly surprised. He turned back toward Javier. “Do you understand what this may do to your job here?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
Tyson slowly stood and held his hand out toward Javier. Javier was confused.
“Javier, may I shake your hand? Young man, you just gave me the right answer.”
Javier rose and shook his hand.
“I’ve searched a long time for the right person to manage shipping and inventory. You were actually the last person on my list. But I need someone I can trust. Would you take the job? We would adjust your pay, of course.”
Javier, bewildered, looked at Walter, who smiled and nodded. He looked back at Frank Tyson. “I would be honored, sir.”