The Sinners' Garden

by William Sirls

  Hart’s face came into focus. He was every bit as terrified as Andy.

  “Did you tell my nephew that God doesn’t love him?” Rip shouted.

  Hart tried to lower his face but Rip pulled it back.

  “Answer my question!”

  Hart didn’t answer, and that’s when Rip heard Andy.

  “Gerald Michael.”

  Andy’s eyes were closed. He was holding an earbud against his ear and his head was swaying back and forth as he looked at the basement ceiling like a person who was looking into the sun.

  He lowered the earbud and walked up next to Rip. He eased Rip’s hand off of Hart’s head and Hart fell to his side on the basement floor.

  Andy pointed at Hart and said, “He is Cain.”

  “You are history, Ripley!” Hart yelled. “You are fired and I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re going back to jail!”

  “Forgive him, Gerald Michael,” Andy said. “For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil.”

  “Shut up, you freak!” Hart yelled.

  “He is Cain,” Andy repeated, pointing again to Hart. He took a step back and slowly lowered his hand. “And vengeance is mine.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  Heather’s here,” Judi said, standing at the kitchen window.

  Rip stood from the kitchen table and joined her. Heather wore her business face as she stepped out of the patrol car and walked toward the house.

  “Hart didn’t waste any time, did he?” Rip said.

  “Guess not,” Judi answered. “You sure you don’t want me to go over to your place and get any of your stuff out of there?”

  “No,” Rip said. “I’ll deal with that later. Stay here and keep an eye on Andy, and I’ll have Pastor Welsh drop me off back here if I make bail.”

  Heather walked in and Rip leaned back against the sink and crossed his arms. “Looks like you didn’t quit your job soon enough.”

  “What in the world were you thinking?” Heather asked.

  Rip could see that she was puzzled, and a little part of him secretly loved her more because she looked so innocent. Heather was normally quite good at controlling herself, but Rip could also tell that the fraying process was well under way.

  He held his arms up and then let them drop to his sides. Honesty really was the best policy. “I’m thinking Kevin told Andy his face is burned because God doesn’t love him. I’m thinking Kevin is lucky Andy was with me when I found this out.”

  Heather didn’t look satisfied.

  “So, would Kevin really say that to Andy?” she asked. “Kevin is thirty-five. Would he really say that to a fourteen-year-old kid?”

  “You think Andy made this whole thing up?” Rip said. “Have you ever heard Andy make anything up?”

  The police radio on her hip made an annoying series of beeps and she ended it with a little turn of her wrist. “I’m just surprised at Kevin’s behavior.”

  “I’m not,” Rip said, sensing a tiny victory in the case. “Kevin Hart is a scumbag. This town has no idea what he’s like. Just take my word for it.”

  “He said you hit him with a baseball bat in the chest.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “I saw the bat, Rip,” she said.

  “There are a hundred baseball bats in that basement,” Rip said. “Let me guess. I started hitting golf balls at him too?”

  “Who do you think most judges would believe? A convicted felon or Kevin?”

  “I elbowed him,” Rip said. “If I hit him with a bat, he’d be sipping tea right now with his dad.”

  “Nice,” Heather said.

  “Sorry,” Rip said, giving himself a swift kick inside.

  “He said you dragged him halfway across the basement by his hair.”

  “Right now, I’d like to drag him halfway across the planet by his hair.”

  “Did you have him by the hair?”

  “Yeah,” Rip said. “But I didn’t drag him anywhere and that was the end of it. He was just sitting there on the floor of the basement, cowering like a scared little rat when Andy and I left.”

  “You okay?” Heather asked. Rip was disappointed that she was talking to Judi instead of him. He turned and looked out the window wondering what the next few hours were going to bring.

  Nice little parole violation, Rip, you ding-dong. You are going back to jail. Do not pass Go.

  “I believe Rip,” Judi said.

  “At least someone here does,” Rip said, turning back around. “Thanks, Judi.”

  “I never said I didn’t believe you,” Heather said. “I’m just telling you what Kevin told me and—”

  “Just take me in,” Rip interrupted. His patience was growing thin, and at the moment, it really didn’t matter what Heather thought. There wasn’t a judge on the face of the earth who would take his word over Kevin Hart’s. “But let me go up and talk to Andy for a second before we leave.”

  Heather shook her head. “You aren’t going in.”

  Silence filled the kitchen and Rip squinted as if she’d suddenly hugged him.

  “What?”

  “You heard me,” she said. “You are understandably out of a job, and he wants you out of the mobile home today. But Scumbag isn’t pressing charges.”

  “I don’t understand why you didn’t live at Judi’s to begin with,” Heather said, watching Rip as he took down the “SERVANTS’ ENTRANCE” sign from above the door. She figured it was a good idea to follow him over to the mobile home and stick around until he got his stuff out of there. In case Kevin Hart showed up.

  “Andy has asked me that a few times,” Rip said. He put the sign on top of the kitchen table and opened the refrigerator. All Heather could see was a jar of mustard, some type of lunch meat, a loaf of bread, and a gallon of milk with only a couple inches left. He turned and smiled at her. “See anything in here you want?”

  “I’ll take the rest of that milk, if you don’t mind.”

  “You serious?”

  “No,” she said with a little laugh. “That’s disgusting.”

  Rip laughed as well, and it surprised her a little. “Sorry about putting you in the middle of this mess.”

  “Maybe I should have quit already,” Heather said. “I’m still gonna.”

  “Good,” he said with a smile.

  “You sure seem to be in a good mood for a guy who just lost his house and job,” she said.

  “I’ve just been thinking about all of the things that happened and how God works,” he replied.

  “Why didn’t Andy ever tell you what Kevin said to him that day?” she asked.

  “No clue,” Rip said, pouring what was left of the milk into the sink and dropping the plastic jug in the trash. “He told me that Kevin said something about his scar, but nothing about God not loving him.”

  “Unbelievable,” Heather said. “What now? What’s next for you?”

  Rip shrugged. “Unemployment checks and me sleeping in one of Judi’s spare bedrooms with Milo and his farts. But I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll swing by Judi’s tomorrow and make sure you’re adjusting,” she said.

  “Good,” Rip said, grabbing the two bottles of water out of the fridge and handing her one. “And I was hoping there was something you could maybe enlighten me on.”

  She took the cap off the bottle and took a quick sip. “What’s that?”

  He paused a few seconds before asking. “Why do you think Kevin isn’t pressing charges against me?”

  “Maybe he’s just being nice,” she said. “Giving you a break.”

  Rip grabbed at his lower back and gritted his teeth.

  “You all right?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he said, brushing aside her concern. “I can understand why I got fired and why he’d want me out of here, but I figured I was in real trouble today. He even told me I was going back to jail.”

  “But you’re not. Be thankful.”

  “I am,” he
said, holding his hands above his head and leaning to his side like he was stretching out his back. “I have one more question about Kevin, if you don’t mind.”

  “Go for it,” she said.

  He grinned. “Should I ask him for my security deposit back on this place?”

  “You’re such a dork,” she said.

  “I know,” he said, holding up his arms in surrender.

  She smiled and their eyes met. It was awkward at first, but then felt just right.

  “But you’re a cute dork,” she said softly, stepping a little closer to him.

  Rip looked at her and smiled. He’d never looked more handsome, she thought. He edged forward and leaned in toward her—for a kiss?—but right then, his cell rang. He slowly straightened, eyes never leaving her, and reached in his pocket to pull out his phone. Only then did he turn away.

  The call didn’t last long.

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  “Doc Strater,” he said with a grim look.

  Calling at nine o’clock at night?

  “They want to see me first thing in the morning.”

  Rip checked in on Andy, who had gone to bed early, clearly wiped out by the day’s drama. Then he headed downstairs to chat with Judi.

  “You settled in?” she asked, sitting on the couch. On her lap was an open photo album, and it took Rip about half a second to notice the page was loaded with pictures of Todd.

  “I think so,” he said, plopping down on the couch next to her. “I don’t think Milo is too happy with me. He’s still upstairs sniffing around my things and trying to figure out how long I’m going to be here.” He gestured to the album. “I thought you were done taking trips down memory lane.”

  Judi waved at it. “I’m gonna straighten things out with Andy. I think I’m finally ready. And having you here . . . Rip, I think I needed you here, in the house, to find the courage. And after what happened today with Kevin telling Andy he looks that way because God doesn’t love him . . .” She paused and looked right at Rip. “It’s time for Andy to know God does love him, and so do I. That I would’ve done anything I could to protect him. That I tried to, and failed. But it wasn’t for lack of trying.”

  Rip reached out and wiped away a tear on her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “When do you want to tell him?”

  She looked straight into his eyes and nodded. “Right now.”

  Judi knocked on the open door and Andy didn’t move. Rip went in and shook Andy’s shoulder.

  He turned over and squinted at Rip. “What?” he said, half asleep.

  “Your mom and I want to talk to you,” Rip said, sitting down on the side of his bed.

  Andy rubbed at his eyes and then sat up. “About what?”

  “About things,” Rip said.

  “About what really happened to your face,” Judi blurted.

  Andy looked at her with contempt and lay back down.

  “Hey,” Rip said, giving Andy a little push. Andy rolled over to face him. “I think you need to hear what your mom has to say and we can put all of this behind us for good.”

  Andy sat up quickly. “Put it behind you, Uncle Rip?” He pointed at Judi and her heart raced. “It’s her fault, not yours.”

  Judi stepped fully into the room. “It wasn’t my fault, Andy!”

  “I heard you say it, Mom!” Andy yelled. “You were standing right where you are now. It was the first night you heard me call you using your middle name. You said it was your fault.”

  “But, Andy—”

  “I forgive you, okay?” Andy said. “I forgive you for everything that has ever happened in this house.”

  “C’mon, Andy,” Rip said. “We’ve had a rare day and—”

  “What do you mean?” Judi interrupted, Andy’s words playing over in her mind. “What do you mean that you forgive me for everything that has ever happened in this house?”

  Andy sat up again and looked at her like she was kidding. “With my face. With Dad. With everything.”

  Judi went to the other side of his bed and sat down.

  “You were three years old,” Judi said.

  “Who cares?” Andy said.

  “It was two days before Easter.”

  “I don’t care,” Andy said, a little louder.

  “And I was boiling water on the stove for Easter eggs.”

  “I don’t want to hear this!” Andy yelled, lying back down and covering his head with the pillow.

  “Well, you’re going to hear it!” Judi shouted, standing and yanking the pillow off him. The hair on the left side of Andy’s face pulled forward and then fell back over his ear, exposing the scar. Judi couldn’t take her eyes off it as she continued. “I had no idea you were standing right behind me, Andrew. No idea.”

  Andy didn’t say anything and then Rip nodded for her to continue.

  She took a deep breath and waited a few long seconds before whispering, “Your father threw the water at me.”

  Judi just stared at Andy and waited. Andy had become perfectly still, then, after a moment, covered his face with his hands.

  “You were standing right behind me,” she repeated. “We didn’t know you were there. Your father was having one of his fits and was standing right next to the stove. When he quit yelling, you must have thought it was over, thought it was safe. You’d been sleeping on the couch. You came and grabbed onto my leg from behind and peeked around to look at your father at the same second he threw the water. The exact same second.”

  Andy looked at her from between his fingers and slowly sat up again.

  “You’re lying!” he screamed. “Dad told me you threw the water at him and it hit me! He told me that six years ago!”

  Six years ago. Judi closed her eyes and thought about the switch that had been flicked on. The same one that had instantly turned Andy from being her little pal into a stranger who despised her.

  “No, Andy,” she said, shaking her head. “Your father never should have told you that. Never.”

  “You’re lying!” Andy repeated, the hair falling back from behind his ear over the scar. “You felt guilty! You said it was your fault!”

  “For not knowing you were there, behind me!” she said. “For not keeping you from harm.” Tears clogged her throat. “Every day since, I’ve felt the pain of that failure. But that’s what God released me from. What I felt, looking at the garden. The guilt, the weight, all that was never really mine to take on. Don’t you see?”

  “Why didn’t you get burned then?” he spat out, gesturing to the side of his neck. “If Dad threw it at you? Why didn’t you get stuck with something like this?”

  Rip looked at her for a second. “You don’t have to—”

  “Please don’t ever ask me that again, Andy,” Judi interrupted. “I’ve told you what happened, and it’s the truth.”

  “Yeah, right,” Andy said. “It’s all really convenient, isn’t it? To revise the truth when it suits you?”

  He really doesn’t believe me. And who could really blame him? For so long, I’ve accepted the blame. The guilt.

  Judi stood and walked around to the side of the bed where Rip was. She flicked on Andy’s bedside lamp, adding more light to the room. She looked at Rip and then back at Andy. Confident she had their undivided attention, she unsnapped the button on her jeans and turned her left side toward them. And then she quickly pulled her pants down to her knees, exposing the burn scar that ran from the bottom of her underwear down to her knee, covering the entire side of her left leg.

  She met Andy’s wide, blue eyes.

  Then she yanked her pants up and left the room.

  THIRTY-TWO

  The generator came to life, waking Judi up. Something about its steady hum soothed her, and she closed her eyes again and thought about the previous day. It had been a good day, one that involved the truth and finally ended with a long overdue conversation with God. It was a nice prayer, and concluded with her asking to see just a little more of His glory, because the truth s
ometimes hurt, and she and Andy needed His help to accept it, then move beyond it.

  She opened her eyes and stared at the dark ceiling. She noticed the off-yellow shadow that was pulsing against it and then turned to the alarm clock. A steady “12:00” flashed from it, confirming there had been a power failure.

  She grabbed her watch off the nightstand and squinted to see the time. It was almost quarter past nine. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept in this late and wondered why it was still so dark. She glanced over at the wall to her left and could see the thick smears of rain that were pressed against each of the windows that faced the lake. She could hear the wind beating against the side of the house, and then some thunder that rolled not too far away, sounding more like someone sliding furniture across the floor in the attic above.

  Judi stood and walked to one of the windows, pressing her hands flat against it and welcoming the coolness from the rain on the other side of the glass. She leaned back on her heels and put her hands behind her neck for a good stretch, then thought she heard music coming from somewhere in the house. She lowered her hands and her head tilted toward her right shoulder. It was coming from downstairs and she turned around to face the bedroom door.

  It was Andy. He was humming. It sounded amazing.

  She walked out of the bedroom and past the room Rip was staying in. He had already left for his appointment with Dr. Strater. Then she leaned over the edge of the staircase. She could see Andy sitting on the couch with one hand up near his ear, his head swaying slowly from shoulder to shoulder as he hummed.

  She had to get closer.

  She went downstairs and sat in the recliner across from him. He was wearing his tight white T-shirt and his dark blue pajama bottoms that were a little too big. His hair was sleep-tossed and his eyes were peacefully closed as his head continued to sway back and forth as he hummed. He had never looked more beautiful to her, and the only thing in the world more beautiful and perfect than Andy was that song.