His thoughts returned to his mom. He knew that she was watching him from her seat along the kitchen island when he let out a loud huff as he pulled a dozen eggs from the refrigerator and started to beat them viciously with a fork in a bowl. She finished her juice and put the glass into the dishwasher, before returning to her office.
***
A short while later, Tanner, freshly showered and shaved, appeared in the kitchen in a pair of khaki pants and a slightly wrinkled pink button down shirt.
“Perfect timing my good friend, breakfast is served,” Nick said as he placed Tanner’s steaming hot plate of eggs, bacon, and toast on the kitchen island.
“Looks great. Thanks!”
“You wanna eat on the porch?”
“Sure, sounds good.”
Nick and Tanner carried their plates onto the porch and Nick went to the cooler for bottled waters. Then they relaxed and enjoyed their meals.
“Rough night last night, dude,” Tanner said, “How many beers did you drink? I lost count myself.”
“Three.”
“Really? Geez. I think I had ten. Don’t even know. But what I do know is that I’ve got a headache that’d kill a horse,” Tanner lamented as he chugged down his water.
“Yeah, drinking is so easy,” Nick said as he looked at Tanner’s bloodshot eyes.
“It’s just so easy to drink on a hot day with good friends and good music,” Tanner said.
“Yeah,” Nick said, “and Bob. Man, that guy cracks me up.”
“You know he’ll keep working in his cabinet shop until he’s ninety. He and his dad are doing well. They’ve got all kinds of business in North Orange Bay. Builders have been calling, subbing them jobs. Bob’s loving it.”
“That’s cool. He’s a hard worker. Hard worker and hard drinker,” Nick said.
“So true.”
After they finished, they carried their plates and water bottles to the kitchen and put them in the sink and garbage, respectively. It was time for church.
***
When Nick walked into the church, the first and only person he recognized was Barbara Collins, the woman who’d inspired everyone with the work she’d done to help foster children at the women’s luncheon. Barbara was sitting in the first row, and Nick and Tanner sat in the row behind her. Her silver hair reflected against the lights of the church as she turned around and greeted Nick with a smile. “I remember you from the luncheon. I hope you and your mom are doing well.” Her sapphire eyes shone brightly but her body seemed a little weaker.
“Yes, we are. Thank you. It’s good to see you. This is our first time to this church. My name’s Nick and this is my friend, Tanner.”
“Hello, Nick and Tanner. I’ve been coming here for more years than I can remember. You’ll like this church,” she said softly before turning back around.
Nick reflected on her story.
“What a brave woman,” he thought, “battling cancer yet still inspiring others. She’s an inspiration to us all.”
The choir started singing songs and everyone stood up to sing and praise the Lord. Tears came to Nick’s eyes as he sang along. Feeling good, he knew that he was where Jesus wanted him to be; praising him, loving him, and learning about him.
When the songs ended, the pastor walked to the stage. After a few introductions and greetings, he began his sermon.
“Consider the world today and the way it’s different from the world in biblical times. Life was difficult back then as people suffered from the constant threats of plagues, leprosy, and other maladies not prevalent in the developed world today. Beheadings and stoning were common. Death was always around the corner, so people found comfort in prayer.”
“When hardships aren’t knocking, people often forget to pray. And many aren’t praying regularly in the United States as they only turn to prayer during times of hardship. That’s where there is a paradox. Even though life is easier in these times, life is more dangerous than it’s ever been. Some people feel they just don’t need God, and religion has nothing to offer them.”
“That’s just the way that Satan wants it. He thinks the earth is his wonderland and he’s scheming and plotting for ways to destroy you and your fellow humans. Complacency is his best friend. Materialism and abundance are his lovers.”
“Satan loves complacency because it blinds us to the injustices occurring around the world, preventing us from using God’s gifts to bring about change. Many of our fellow humans are facing incomprehensible daily struggles, not just struggles for food and shelter, but struggles for basic human rights.”
“Let’s put aside our complacency and focus on those in need. Consider Nigeria, where the Boko Haram recently kidnapped almost three hundred girls from their school and forced them to convert to Islam and memorize chapters of the Qur’an. Their leaders bragged of the rapes, mutilations and the way the girls were married off to their captors. Boko Haram, translated to English means ‘western education is sin.’”
“ISIS, the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria, has also been gaining power. They’ve marked Christian homes with the Arabic ‘n’ symbol, which stands for Nazarene, a derogatory term for Christians. Homes with the n symbol are doomed to persecution. In some places, they’ve been told to flee, convert to Muslim, or die by the sword. Thousands have fled and today there are no more Christians in Mosul, which is the historical Ninevah where God had sent Jonah. Those who refused to convert to Muslim and ended up dying by the sword are now residing in Heaven. And their killers, who chose to live by the sword, will die by the sword, as Jesus foretold in Matthew 26:52.”
“The Arab region is the setting of the Bible. And just like it was in biblical times, women are still afforded few rights there. In Afghanistan and Pakistan, for example, women are forced to wear full body veils, or burqas, and aren’t allowed an education. Stories of brave women seeking education, and being murdered for it, abound. In those countries plus many others, it’s not uncommon to witness women being stoned for adultery, yet not tried properly or fairly in courts for the offenses their husbands claim. In Saudi Arabia, women are prohibited from driving cars. They can only be chauffeured by males. In many countries of the Arab world, women are treated as they were treated during biblical times, as possessions or dogs.”
“Some claim the Bible to be a fictional tale of symbolism, perpetuated to instill beliefs and control others. Well, consider this. If the Bible were only fiction, why would its authors permit a woman, Mary Magdalene, to be the first to discover Jesus’ empty tomb? Jesus’ resurrection was the single most important claim in the New Testament. Jesus’ resurrection was the claim that inspired Christianity and billions of believers in following years. Jesus’ resurrection was the claim that changed the world. Yet the Bible tells us that lowly women made that discovery.”
He paused and then continued, “God ordained men to hold many of the leadership positions in the church, yet Jesus proved that he loves women equally. He demonstrated his love by allowing Mary Magdalene and other women to discover his empty tomb. He bucked tradition and his times in favor of the meek, the humble, and the persecuted. And just before his death, he rode in to Jerusalem on a humble donkey, as predicted hundreds of years earlier in the book of Zechariah (9:9): ‘See your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, a colt, the foal of a donkey.’”
The pastor paused before leading the congregation in a prayer.
Chapter 8
The Lunch, the Homeless Man, and the Seagull
By four that afternoon, Nick’s mom had finished most of the work she’d intended to do that weekend. He watched her walk into the family room and saw her look at the Bible he was holding. She couldn’t know that he was building a case for Jesus, especially for her.
“Nick,” she said, “what do you think of heading out to a nice lunch at the Beachfront Grill in St. Stephen’s? It’s beautiful outside. I could go for some grilled seafood a
nd a bit of reggae.”
Nick smiled and stood up. “That sounds great Mom. I’m gonna get changed. You want to go now, right?”
“Works for me.”
Nick was excited about having lunch with his favorite girl, his mom. She was always working, so relaxing with her to the tunes of steel drums and reggae singers was going to be a treat.
Skipping every two stairs, he charged up to his room to change into his shorts, flip flops, and a t-shirt, which bore a large picture of a sailfish on its back. His teeth felt a little fuzzy, so he brushed them again and combed his hair into place, applying gel to keep it from flying around in the wind in the Ferrari. He considered his teeth and hair to be his two best assets.
After returning to the stairs, he grabbed the stair rail and skipped every three stairs down before landing in the hallway on his way to the family room. His mom was waiting for him on the couch with a copy of BusinessWeek in her hand.
“Ready?” She asked.
“More than ready.”
They walked to the garage and opened it. He didn’t need to ask her whether they’d be taking the Ferrari. It was a given. His Mustang wasn’t even considered.
Nick slipped into the passenger seat and watched his mom climb into the driver’s seat before igniting the engine and pulling out of the driveway. They were off. They headed south along Peace Boulevard before getting on the skyway bridge to St. Stephen’s.
As they started crossing over the bridge, Nick watched a variety of yachts, powerboats and sailboats as they moved about in the water. Fishermen, boaters, and water skiers of all ages were enjoying that hot summer day on the bay. They appeared as specks in the distance, yet he could feel their excitement on the water. Being on the bay was an exhilarating experience and one of the great benefits of living in Florida. He gazed at that water and felt his short hair as it battled the salty breeze and his skin as it drank in the warmth of the sun.
“Perfect weather today,” he said.
“Definitely.”
The Ferrari glistened in the sun as it headed down the tall bridge over the bay and into St. Stephen’s. Nick noticed an old Volkswagen bus and a row of battered and aged cars parked along the Bayfront beach, which butted up against the roadway. Dark-skinned families were gathered by picnic tables and grills and umbrellas. Small kids were playing on the beach, clutching buckets and shovels, with their caretakers standing nearby, knee high in the water with fishing poles.
None appeared to be in his new class, he thought, the upper class. They were probably enjoying a rare day of fun between the long work weeks in their low-paying jobs. Or maybe they didn’t have jobs or couldn’t find jobs. Maybe some lived there, using their beat up cars and vans as their shelters and the public restrooms and ocean as their amenities and source of food.
He wondered whether those fishing were fishing for sport or for dinner. And he considered whether they needed to fish to eat dinner or simply to make ends meet. One small child lifted her head up from her sandcastle project and pointed to the red Ferrari, which made Nick feel a little uncomfortable.
He looked over at his mom. She was wearing a long aquamarine-colored sundress, with matching sandals and oversized gold hoop earrings. Her short-bobbed, blonde hair, which was usually sprayed firmly in place, blew freely in the wind, expressing a rare moment of freedom from her role as a CEO.
“I wonder if the people fishing are catching their dinners,” Nick said.
“Could be.”
“Well if so, I hope they catch what they need,” he said. “I feel sort of guilty passing them in the Ferrari. So many people have nothing and are struggling these days.”
She sighed. “Nick, you’ve developed such a soft heart for the poor. Where did that come from? I know your dad was missing the empathy gene, so it didn’t come from him. I draw a distinction between the truly needy and those too lazy to advance themselves. You should draw the same distinction. Most people are just lazy. If they worked hard, they’d be CEOs too. Everyone makes choices. People can choose hard work or they can choose to take it easy. They can choose between getting an education and staying in dead-end jobs.”
“Mom, I don’t think people necessarily choose to take it easy or stay in dead-end jobs. Some may not care about money or possessions. Maybe they’d rather serve as missionaries or live simple lives in simple jobs. Some can’t get through school. Maybe they can’t pass calculus or write a paper. It’s not because they’re lazy. It’s because they were born without minds for education.”
“You make some good points, Nick, but there are other options for those without book smarts if they want to make money. You don’t need to be a brain scientist to make a good living in real estate, construction, or the military. Those are just a few examples. It’s all about making the right choices and having a strong work ethic.”
Nick reflected on her words. She turned down the exit and before long arrived at the Beachfront Grill.
As they pulled up to the valet, Nick noticed a middle-aged man sitting nearby on the sidewalk bordering the street wearing a scruffy pair of jeans and a bleached-out plaid button-down shirt. His face was full of hair and his sandy blonde hair was knotted and straggly. The exposed skin on his face and hands was sunburned in a deep tomato-like color. He looked up at Nick as he climbed out of the Ferrari and held up a sign, “Will work for food.”
Nick reached into his pocket for his wallet and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, the only bill in his wallet. His mom came around the car and grabbed Nick’s arm.
“I hope you’re not giving that to the bum! He’ll just use it to buy alcohol or drugs. The bums have been overrunning the businesses here lately. There are way too many of them and their population is growing. If this continues, they’ll be putting the retail establishments out of business. The beach will be filled with dilapidated buildings and bums. No one wants to see them and no one wants them here. Feeding them with money is like feeding the seagulls. Can’t get rid of them either.”
Nick looked at the man again, who didn’t appear to be drunk, but did appear despondent. Tired and worn, he looked as if he’d fought a war and lost. Maybe he had fought in a war. Maybe he’d served in the military. He put his money back in his pocket and walked into the restaurant behind his mom.
A voice sounded itself in his mind, directing him back to the man. When his mom went to use the restroom, Nick hurried out the front door and over to the man, who appeared to be watching the cars as they sped along the road in front of the restaurant.
“Here you go, man,” he said as he handed him the twenty, “God bless you.”
The man looked at him with piercing green eyes and smiled, exposing several missing teeth. “God bless you,” he said as he pulled himself up from the ground and stretched. “I’m gonna get me some food.” Nick watched him as he strolled across the street and into a fast-food restaurant.
Hopefully he hadn’t heard what his mom had said. The poor guy needed some dignity.
He returned to the restaurant and found his mom reading the menu at a table outside, across the patio from the band, overlooking the ocean. Facing the ocean, he pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.
“Mom, I gave him the twenty bucks anyway. He needed food and I watched him go across the street and into a fast food restaurant.”
“Small miracles. Most bums head into the liquor store after you give them money.”
“Not the one we saw.” Nick grabbed the menu and scanned it. “Shrimp, burgers, pork, yum.”
“I’ll probably get a salad with iced tea,” she said.
Nick studied his options, finally deciding on the bacon burger. He closed his menu.
A few minutes later, a man in his early forties stepped up to the table with a pad of paper and a pen in his hand. “Hi, my name’s Miguel,” he said cheerfully, “What can I get you to drink? Rum runners are two-for-one right now and we’re running a special on house wines and beers.
Nick felt a
strong urge to order a beer, but considered his company.
“I’ll take an unsweetened iced tea,” Nick’s mom answered.
“I’ll take an iced tea too, but sweetened,” Nick said.
Miguel left to get their drinks, just as the band members returned to the stage. The sounds of steel drums and Caribbean beats soon permeated the air. The singer in the band wore a Jamaican red, black, and gold woven hat over his dreadlocks and somewhat resembled the late Bob Marley. He sang his “Three Little Birds” and “No Woman No Cry” songs just as Bob would have sung them.
The restaurant was starting to fill up, which was likely due to a combination of the music, the salty sea air, the happy hour, and the early bird specials. The latter probably attracted the large number of older patrons who were now sitting at the tables around Nick and his mom. “Not too shabby. Probably spend a lot of time here.”
“Here are your drinks. Are you ready to order?” Miguel asked as he set the drinks in front of them.
“In just a moment, Miguel,” his mom said.
“OK, no worries and no rush. We have plenty of time. So, are you here on vacation?”
“No, we live here,” Catherine responded, still studying the menu.
“It’s nice here, isn’t it,” Miguel said.
“Very nice. We love this place,” she said.
Nick noticed the way she avoided his eye contact as she answered his questions. He’d make up for that.
“Yeah, it’s awesome here,” Nick said as he looked into Miguel’s smoky eyes. “How long have you been working here?”
“Ten years, just had my ten year anniversary.”
“Congratulations!” Nick said, “Did you celebrate?”
“Sure, I went out with the other servers after work. They bought me a few drinks.”
Nick saw his mom turn her head towards him as he asked, “How about the owners? Did they recognize you?”
“Yeah, they recognized I’ve been here ten years, after I told them. They don’t keep track of those sorts of things.” He chuckled.
Wayward Paths and Golden Handcuffs Page 5