“Pick cheaper boots.”
Savannah rolled her eyes at me. I didn’t mention the four hundred dollars in her pocket because I really did understand. She was spoiled and had gotten dumped into reality with graduation from high school. Then one wrong decision had led to another and another until she was lost in an addiction she didn’t know how to get out of. Her parents didn’t know what to do with her. I needed her to see that something was possible. All she saw was that life was impossible. Not that I was blaming her parents at all. Who knew what was going on in a teen’s mind? She was only telling me because I was here. “Show me the boots.”
“What?”
I stood up and pulled her to her feet. “We need to get out of the cold. Show me the boots.”
“But I need to get to Greg’s house.”
“Is Greg your friend with the drugs?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So you can still go see him after showing me the boots.”
“What are you up to?”
“Nothing,” I raised my hands and stepped back. The rumble of the city bus coming up the street caught my attention. “I just like boots, too. Maybe I could help you figure out how to get them.”
She studied my face, seeking a lie, a trick of some kind. The bus pulled up beside us and the door opened.
“Are you going by the mall?” I asked the woman behind the wheel.
“Sure am. You two riding?”
I looked at Savannah. “Are we riding?”
She nodded quickly and stepped past me and up into the bus. She handed the lady a twenty dollar bill. The driver put it in the fare box and punched in two fares. A change card popped out. Savannah took it and took the first available seat for two. She studied the card in her hand. “What’s this?” she whispered.
“You can use this to ride the bus all over the city until you use up all the money. You have seventeen dollars and fifty cents left.”
“Okay.”
Silence reigned between us on the bus ride. I wondered if she was second guessing her decision to go to the mall, but I couldn’t tell. I know sullen teenagers are a stereotype, but she was the poster child for them.
Thirty minutes later we entered the mall through Belk’s. It felt strange. Suddenly it struck me that I had been inside Safe Haven for three weeks. Three weeks without a drink, without work, without doing laundry, paying bills, or any shopping. Three weeks without any responsibilities except one—to get healthy, to heal. Overwhelmed by the sights and sounds, I stumbled a bit and stopped. Savannah stopped and looked back at me.
“You okay?”
“Yes … I just stepped wrong.” I forced a bright smile. “Lead me to the shoes.”
She strode ahead of me purposefully. I should have known she would know exactly where to go. I followed her blonde head, focusing just on it, until she stopped. Stepping up next to her, I gazed at the object of her desire. Black knee-high leather Coach boots with buckles crisscrossed across the ankle. She gingerly picked one up and turned the sole toward me to show me the price: $450.00!
“Wow. Those are gorgeous.” I had never in my life paid more than $60.00 dollars for a pair of shoes of any kind.
“Aren’t they? And I have the perfect outfit to wear with them. My black skinny jeans and my purple sweater.”
“So buy them. You have the money in your pocket.”
“But I need that for Greg.”
“Let’s think about this. If you give the money to Greg, you’ll get high for a couple hours? And you won’t have the boots. If you buy the boots, you’ll have them now and in a couple hours you’ll still have them. You can wear them all season.”
She put the boot down and stuck her hands in her pockets. “I know what you’re trying to do. I’m not stupid. If I buy the boots, I can’t get high. But if I don’t get high, I’m going to get sick. I can already feel it coming on.”
“But if you get through being sick, then you won’t have to get high anymore.”
“You don’t understand. It’s the only time I feel good anymore.”
What was I to say? I had to hit bottom before I realized I needed help. Still I had come through twenty days and that was something. “Savannah, if you’ll go back with me to Safe Haven, I’ll stay with you. I won’t leave you. I promise. Just try. Give the people at Safe Haven a chance to help you.”
“I can’t. I just can’t.” Tears filled her eyes as she shook her head. She took one more look at the boots, sliding one hand down the leather, and then she walked away. Fast.
I followed her.
She didn’t glance back to see if I was there. I had to think of something. That’s when I saw him. Joshua. My guardian angel. He was looking over a display of footballs in the sporting goods section. Savannah was charging ahead through Belk’s. I zigzagged through the aisles of clothes and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him after me. It didn’t even occur to me that since he was an angel, I couldn’t drag him after me.
“What gives, Lizzie?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be helping me?”
“I’m keeping an eye on you.”
“Well, I need more than an eye. I need a plan to get Savannah back to Safe Haven. Where’s her guardian angel?”
Joshua looked around quickly then leaned in to whisper to me, “You know no one else can see me, right? You look like a crazy person. Not cool.”
“Joshua!”
“She’s over by the purses.”
I stood up on tiptoe to see Savannah exit the building. “This is so not good!” I stopped right then and there. In the middle of Belk’s. And prayed. Which is what I should have done first. “Dear God, please send help. Please give me words to keep Savannah safe. I can’t do this without you.”
Joshua disappeared. I ran for the door.
Dream 21
I sat next to Savannah’s bed holding her hand. The past twelve hours had not been fun. She was sleeping now though, and I imagined I was, too, when I saw God standing in the corner with a teenage girl about Savannah’s age. It was Mia, Savannah’s guardian angel.
Mia walked to the bed and took Savannah’s hand in hers. Savannah sighed in her sleep. “I’ll be here,” Mia whispered to me. “You can go see Jesus.”
I sat back, yawned, and rubbed my eyes. I smiled at God. “Thank you.”
He smiled back and nodded. “We’ll stay until you get back.”
In the space from one breath to the next I lifted my face to the warmth of the sun, eyes closed, stretching my arms overhead. I was stiff and tired, but it was a good tired. Not that I wasn’t in deep trouble with the Safe Haven staff, Doc Aimee, and my group for leaving with Savannah that morning. It seemed so long ago. At least days ago, but somehow—with God’s help—and the help of two guardian angels—we had both returned to Safe Haven through the front doors.
One had been sullen and barely putting one foot in front of the other. One had been coaxing, pleading, and promising, bravely willing to take responsibility for her actions.
“Girl, you have gone and messed up now.” Mabel had been there, hands on ample hips, shaking her head at the two of us. Then she enveloped both of us, surprising Savannah, but not me. “And I have never been so happy to see two patients in my life. Praise God.”
“Praise Him, indeed,” I had whispered back and winked at Joshua.
But now I was in the pasture next to the work shop and I heard the sound of a hammer and someone whistling. It made me smile. Sean had whistled when he was happy. It had always reassured me that everything was okay—that singing sound. God knew that. I was learning how like Him it was for Him to be sweet like that.
“Hello,” I called out.
Jesus paused in mid-swing and his dark eyes seemed to light up, crinkling at the edges as he smiled. He put the hammer down, and waved at the seat next to him. “Hello, Elizabeth. Come have a
cool drink and tell me about your day.”
I scooped up the tall glass of lemonade and drank thirstily. “Thank you.” I sank into the chair. “I didn’t realize I needed that, but you did, I guess.”
He shrugged and drank from his own glass, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “You had a pretty busy day.”
“Yeah, but you know all about that. We can work on whatever it is that we are building.”
“I’d like to hear your version of the day.”
Tilting my head, I peered into his face. His interest was evident as he leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. I was instantly awestruck and tongue-tied. Jesus wanted to hear what I had to say. If Savannah knew she was this important to God, then surely …
“Tell me about Savannah. Did she remind you of Hannah?”
Surprised, I shook my head quickly. “No, not at all. Hannah was very much an extrovert, friendly, dark haired, shorter, and sweeter than Savannah.”
“Yet you helped her.”
“It was obvious she was hurting—angry and lonely.”
“Would you be surprised to find out that Savannah used to be friendly, sweet, and kinder?”
“I would. Too much sarcasm and self-centeredness is coming through.”
“Why do you think that is?” he sipped his lemonade slowly.
“I hadn’t thought about it.” But I did now. I pictured her slouched attitude in the group meeting and her sharp sense of humor that pricked more than it bonded. And when I shoved her sleeves up and revealed her secret, she had hidden behind her hair and attitude. “It’s her defense mechanism. It’s a wall she uses to try and protect herself from hurt or attack.”
“That’s right. Sound like anyone else?”
Startled again, I thought about it. Had Savannah reminded me of anyone else? Most people would have assumed Hannah because of their ages, but if not that then who? I refocused on Jesus. “I’m missing something you want me to see, aren’t I?”
“Smart girl.”
I studied his patient attention. Willing to let me work it out. Savannah hadn’t wanted help, didn’t need help, and had wanted the drugs to make her feel good because she only felt bad. ”Me. She is acting like me.”
“Bingo. So tell me how so.”
I shook my head amazed. “Almost thirty years difference in ages, life experiences, yet our reaction to pain so similar. We wanted to block it, drown it, get rid of it any way we could. And we pushed people—those who wanted to help—away.”
“And what does she need most?”
“Besides you and counseling, you mean? Love, kindness, support, truth.”
“Yes. And why did she come back here with you?”
“Because when I chased her, and didn’t give up trying to get her to come back to Safe Haven with me, something broke through the wall she had built inside and let her know she does want help.” Incredulous, I tried putting myself in her shoes. Broken home, world pressure, peer pressure, everyone telling her to do something and no one listening. That was it really.
Jesus smiled. “But you did listen.”
“Not enough. I wouldn’t have figured this out if you hadn’t questioned me, hadn’t made me think about it.” I leaned back in the chair and stared off into the sky. Maybe having to stay an extra day as punishment for my “irresponsible behavior” wouldn’t be bad if I could help Savannah.
My wandering gaze fell on the project at his feet. “What are we building?”
The twinkle in his eye made me blush with excitement. This was so new, so welcome, spending time with Jesus and not feeling shamed or judged or less than. I felt accepted. And not because I answered the questions right, or helped Savannah, but simply because I came. I came to spend some time with Jesus. To build something yes, but really because I felt good being close to Him.
“You haven’t figured it out yet?”
I studied the pieces He had already hammered together. It looked like the beginnings of a doll house. But that didn’t make sense. Did it? “I’m not sure yet.”
“That’s okay. Hand me another piece.”
So we continued our building, silent except for the hammer and his humming. After a while I had to ask, “What is that song you keep humming?”
“You don’t recognize it?”
“No, should I?”
“The guardian angels hum it. Sometimes the humans in their charge hear enough of it to recognize it and it relaxes them.”
“Joshua doesn’t strike me as a hummer.”
Jesus laughed. “You’re probably right.”
“Are there words?”
“Yes, one of the Psalms, I believe.”
“You don’t know?”
“Of course I know, but you need to know.”
He paused a moment seeming to consider, then said, “I have an assignment for you. Tomorrow I want you to read the Psalms. When you find the right one, you will know.”
Day Twenty-Two
November 27
“This is so hard,” I confessed to Annie, Stephen and Doc Aimee. “Facing the reality of Sean’s mistake. Facing the reality that his error in judgment cost him and Hannah their lives. I simply did not want to see it. I don’t want to see it now. But it is the truth. A truth that I have been denying for months. A truth that made me unconsciously put my fist through a wall without knowing it.”
They listened as I poured my heart out. I did feel safe here, yet I did not know where the gush of words and emotions had come from. But I also knew it was connected to the Psalms I had been reading this morning. Awkwardly reading. Thumbing through the well-worn pages to Psalms, I realized I hadn’t spent any time in my Bible this past year. Still, as I had read the Psalms and listened to David’s impassioned words, I had sensed peace at the edge of my consciousness. The surety that maybe I was on the right track.
I wanted to go back to it.
Doc Aimee wanted me to work some more here though. “Tell us how you plan to deal with the reality of Sean’s very human mistake? Physically and emotionally?”
“I’m going to try exercising regularly just for overall health, but for stress relief I’ve found throwing plates to be therapeutic. Of course that could get costly. And for my emotional stability, besides the counseling, I’ve started reading my Bible again.”
Annie gave a soft “Alleluia” and patted my arm.
Stephen kept listening. Church, God and the Bible had gotten even more complicated because of his parents’ stand against his treatment here at Safe Haven.
Doc Aimee wanted more. Always more.
“What are you dealing with while throwing plates?”
I looked at each of them. They waited for me to say it. We had all been thinking it since I got to the part where they rode into the intersection without checking left. Taking a deep breath I leaned forward studying my hands. “My anger.”
Three sighs were heard.
“I am beyond angry at Sean. I am so mad it makes me shake sometimes and I have to release it. Hitting baseballs works too, but I miss too many for it to be useful. Not my teacher’s fault. Throwing the plates may be a bit expensive, but the release, the sound, and the million trillion pieces make me feel lighter.”
“Where did you come up with this? Throwing plates?”
“A special friend introduced me to it. Do you have a professional opinion?”
“I have prescribed a couple rounds at the batting cages to work off anger, and to promote exercise—release of endorphins—and hopefully sleeping better. Let me know how the plate smashing works.”
“I will.”
“But I want to dig a bit deeper. I know you are angry with Sean, but besides throwing plates, what do you have to do to get past that anger?”
Could I say it? Could I say it without breaking down or getting angry? I breathed in deeply and let it out very slow
ly. Then I said it for each one in the room to hear. “I have to forgive him.”
Doc Aimee nodded, smiling as she wrote on her ever-present note pad. “Yes, you do.”
Annie piped in, “Forgiveness is next to godliness.”
“You don’t know how right you are, Annie,” I said.
***
I returned to my room before joining the others at lunch. It was a dreary rainy day, yet it reminded me of Christmas shopping and I wished I could go. But then I’m not even sure if I had any money to shop with, or a home to go back to when I got out of here. My parents had been saddled with so much to look after and wade through at my house in my absence. Shame and guilt were trying to creep up on me and throw a damper on my mood. It felt like a big wet blanket, but I threw it off with vehemence. “Thank you God for parents who love and care for me almost as much as you.”
Gathering my notebook, Bible, and a jacket, because the cafeteria was always cold, I headed to lunch. I found my group in the far corner by the back windows. It gave a semblance of privacy.
I dropped my things off at the table and went to get some hot food. Annie and Stephen had been joined by a newcomer. They were chatting and I found myself interested in the new guy’s story. Returning to the table, I nodded a greeting to him. “Hello. Welcome to Safe Haven.”
“Hello.”
Stephen made introductions. “Elizabeth, this is Michael. This is his fifth day.”
“So, I guess Annie and Stephen have given you the skinny on everyone?” I offered my hand across the table.
He nodded. His gaze pierced me through as he studied me, and I felt almost naked. His eyes were a bright clear blue, his complexion a ruddy tan. Then he captured my hand in a brief strong handshake. His hand was large, calloused, a workman’s hand.
“What brings you to Safe Haven?” I asked casually as I stabbed my scrambled eggs.
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