by J B Hawker
“Is that you, Nisha?” Berniece Mitchell called from the living room when she heard the backdoor slam.
“Hi, Mom,” Ty’Nisha said, dropping her backpack in the hall and plopping down beside her mother on the sofa.
“Rough day?” Berniece asked, brushing her daughter’s hair off her forehead.
“Nah, it was okay,” Ty’Nisha said, shrugging.
“Mom, if someone is doing bad stuff, are we still supposed to try to love them?” she asked.
“What sort of bad stuff?” her mother asked, as fear stabbed her. Was she talking about her brother? A friend, or a new boyfriend? A million unpleasant possibilities flooded Berniece’s mind.
“Oh, I mean, you know... just cutting class, shoplifting makeup and stuff, and messing around with drinking and drugs,” Ty’Nisha replied.
“Just who are we talking about? Has Aleeshia been getting into trouble?”
“No way! Gee, of course not! It’s just that we had the Bible lesson about loving the unlovable and there’s this girl in my class. She’d be really hard to love. I just wondered what I’m supposed to do. I don’t really want to hang around with her, but shouldn’t I be trying to get to know her, or something?” Ty’Nisha asked.
Relieved, Berniece sat back and took her daughter’s hand in her own.
“Do you know how proud of you I am?” she asked.
Ty’Nisha crossed her eyes and made a goofy face, dismissing her mother’s praise.
“I’m serious,” Berniece said. “Not many your age would even ask themselves such a question. I’m proud of you for taking your Bible lessons to heart. You are asking a good question, too. Dad and I have always warned you and TyVon to keep away from bad companions, and this girl sounds like a very bad companion, indeed. We wouldn’t want you to spend time with her and be influenced by her bad choices, for sure. So, how can you show her love? What do you think?” Berniece asked.
“I could pray for her, I guess,” Ty’Nisha proposed.
“Of course, you should. And when you do have any interaction with her, just treat her with respect and kindness. You don’t need to become buddies with someone to show them Christ’s love, after all. And it’s His love we are commanded to share, not necessarily our own affections. Does that make sense?”
Ty’Nisha sat quietly, twirling the friendship bracelets she wore on her wrist.
“Yeah, that helps a bunch, Mom. Thanks!” she said, jumping up and heading out of the room.
“Change your clothes and get started on your homework. I’ll call you down when it’s time to help me get dinner ready,” Berniece called out to her daughter’s retreating back.
She smiled and scrabbled in her button box for a match to the shirt she was mending. Tyrone was forever losing buttons.
“He’s worse than the kids,” she muttered, wetting the end of some white thread with her mouth and poking it through a needle’s tiny eye.
Chapter SIX
A lone seagull croaked its rasping cry over the dark water, waves lapped on the sand, and in the shadowy parking lot above Ramparts Beach a black van pulled up beside a faded blue Mazda hatchback.
The Mazda driver’s door opened, and the dome light shined on the shaved head and bull-like form of Clarence Johnson, known to his victims as Biggie.
The young man lumbered up to the van as its back door opened and two men hopped out. Both were dressed in dark clothing that blended into the shadows at the back of the vehicle.
The taller of the pair growled something and Biggie shuffled toward him.
“Where’s the money?” Dwayne Durney challenged in a low hiss, managing to convey a clear threat with his vicious whisper.
Durney was nearly as tall as Biggie but scrawny. The pale skin of his twig-like arms and neck was littered with tattoos and his skimpy, mouse-colored hair was pulled into a greasy ponytail.
He thrust his face close to the younger man as he spoke, and Biggie stepped back.
“I, uh,” Biggie stammered, reaching his hands into his jacket pocket. “Here. This is all I got,” he managed, pulling out a wad of bills.
Durney snatched the money, counted it, and waved it in Biggie’s face.
“Whaddya mean, this is all you got? You had enough stock to make five times this much cash,” Durney said, stepping closer and forcing Biggie to stumble back.
“Do you know who this guy is?” he asked the frightened teen, gesturing to his companion from the van.
Biggie shook his head, looking as though he were about to cry.
“Beto,” Durney said. “Introduce yourself to this fool.”
A short, stocky man stepped out of the shadows with his hands in his leather jacket. He was swarthy, with thick black hair slicked back from a face marred by both scars and tattoos. He pulled a knife from his pocket and flicked it open.
“Roberto Alvarez, at your service, fool,” he said in accented English.
“Now, you want to take a good look at Beto, and remember his face,” Durney said, addressing Biggie. “He’s a very important man. Our suppliers rely on him to keep things running smoothly. Beto makes sure everybody does their job and nobody tries to hold out on the big boys. You get my meaning?”
Beto stepped closer, gesturing as if he wanted to shake hands. When Biggie reached out, Beto grabbed him and ran the blade of his knife across the back of the boy’s trembling hand.
Biggie yanked his hand away, looking at the beads of blood welling up from his skin, and swallowed the bile rising in his throat.
“I wouldn’t hold out on you. Honest,” he croaked. “I tried to sell all the stuff, but it’s hard. I can give you the rest of it back. ‘Cept the free samples you said I should give the kids. I didn’t use it or nothin’!”
“Our employers have a very firm “no returns” policy, Clarence. Didn’t you know?” Durney said. “But we like you. So, what we’re gonna do here, is we’re gonna give you another chance. Not everyone gets a second chance, right Beto?” he said turning to Roberto who was polishing the blade of his knife on Biggie’s shoulder, inching it closer to his neck with each movement.
“Now, Clarence, our distributors in Tillamook and Coos Bay are moving much more product than you are. Maybe that’s cuz you’re new, so you get one more chance... only one, understand. Nothing personal, just business. You take the shipment we brought tonight, and you hustle up and sell everything before our next meet up. Got it?” Durney said, reaching into the van, dragging out a box and thrusting it into Biggie’s hands.
“Put that in your trunk,” Durney said.
Biggie turned away, eagerly putting distance between himself and Beto’s knife.
He stowed the drugs, slammed the hatch, and stood beside the car awaiting further instructions.
“Sell that and bring us the money... all of the money... and this little screw-up will be forgotten like it never happened. But, if you pull something like this again, Beto will have to get to work earning his pay, right?”
Biggie cringed, rubbing his hand, as the two men stepped closer.
“This stuff needs to get into the system and build up the demand before the big shipment comes in. Sorry to have to get tough with you like this, but it’s a major deal coming in and we’re getting chewed on, too. We’re all in this together, right?” Durney said clapping Biggie on the back and making the frightened young man’s knees go weak.
Durney and Alvarez climbed into the van and pulled onto the highway.
When the van’s taillights were out of sight, Biggie finally forced his trembling limbs to move and got into his car, rubbing again at the wound on his hand. As he drove away, the light from a passing car revealed a single tear glistening on his fat cheek.
…
The following morning Judy Falls bustled back and forth, setting up sidewalk displays outside her shop a few blocks from Bannoch’s beachfront main street.
The marine layer was dissipating as she fiddled with a collection of birdhouses fashioned from old fence boards, displaying
them on a table re-purposed from a wooden cable spool.
Judy straightened her back as she reviewed the results, and then turned to savor the view down her street. While the steep, narrow avenue wasn’t advantageous for customer traffic, Judy felt the view of the Pacific Ocean beyond more than made up for the poor location. Of course, the cheap rent was also a plus.
Wrapping her hand-loomed fringed shawl more tightly against the early morning chill, knocking over a display of rustic woven baskets in the process, she ducked back into the shop.
Naidenne Davidson jogged up the hill in time to see Judy go inside her shop. She stooped to retrieve the fallen baskets and leaned in the doorway, panting.
“Good morning!” Judy chirped, turning to see her friend bent over trying to catch her breath.
“Deenie, are you okay?” Judy asked, coming to Naidenne’s side.
“Oh, I’ll be fine... if these hills don’t kill me,” Naidenne replied, standing tall and brushing her damp curls off her flushed face.
“Here, sit down,” Judy said, pulling over an ottoman she’d made from a wooden keg. “What are you up to, anyway?”
Naidenne lowered herself onto the stool with a groan and accepted the bottle of water Judy handed her.
“I’m trying to finally lose my baby fat. Timmy is almost two and I still can’t get back into some of my favorite clothes,” she said after taking a long drink.
“Then buy some bigger ones, silly!” Judy said. “I’ve always thought you were a little on the skinny side, anyway.”
Naidenne smiled, saying, “I appreciate that, but we can’t afford for me to buy a whole new wardrobe. No. I’m just going to have to bite the bullet and whip my lazy bod into shape. Scott said he’d watch the kids every morning so I can get out and run. This is only my second day, though, and I’m not sure I’m going to be able to keep it up.”
“Running up and down all these hills might be a little extreme,” Judy said. “Why not switch to a vegan diet, instead? I can give you tons of yummo recipes. That’s how I keep my shape,” she added, patting herself on one round hip. “I’ve never been a big fan of sweating.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Naidenne said, pushing herself up off the stool.
“Or, wait! I know! Why not take some self-defense classes from Hope?” Judy asked as this idea struck her. “They must be good for toning. She hasn’t got an ounce of fat on her, as far as I can see.”
“You know, that isn’t a bad idea,” Naidenne said, nodding. “I’ll have to talk to her about it.”
Returning the empty water bottle to Judy, Naidenne jogged in place just outside the door. She considered the steep incline to the top of the street, shook her head and headed back down the hill.
Judy dropped the bottle into a large recycling bin beside the front door and went back to opening the store.
A little later, working in the shop’s front window busily turning a broken chest of drawers into a patio bench, she looked up when Elizabeth Gilbert tapped on the glass before entering the shop.
“That is going to be beautiful, Judy!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “What a good idea to do your work in the window where folks can see your amazing transformations in progress.”
“Thanks. Ken told me that if I show people how I do it, they will just use my techniques at home and I’ll lose sales, but I don’t care, not as long as discards get turned into something useful,” Judy said, getting up off her knees, stepping down on the hem of her multi-layered skirt, and knocking over a jar of paintbrushes.
“Oh, I don’t think you need to worry about folks doing this on their own,” Elizabeth said, picking up the brushes, putting them back into the jar, and setting the jar on a nearby shelf out of harm’s way.
“Not many people have the patience, or the skills, to do what you do,” she added.
“What can I do for you today, Liz?” Judy asked, wiping her hands on her skirt and stepping away from her work area.
“Nothing, really. I just wanted to see what new treasures may have popped up since I was in last. I really like the birdhouses out front. The one with the irises on it would look nice in my garden,” Elizabeth said.
“Take it,” Judy offered. “I can always make another one.”
“I will take it, but I want to pay. You can’t make a go of your business if you give away all your stock.”
“Well, pay whatever you think it’s worth, then,” Judy said. “I’ll get you a reusable shopping bag to carry it home. I make them, the bags, I mean, from an old tent I found in a shack in the woods. The bags last forever, and the musty smell goes away after a while.”
Elizabeth laughed as Judy walked to the back of the shop to retrieve the bag.
“What do you hear from your daughters these days?” Elizabeth called to Judy’s retreating form.
Judy selected a bag for the birdhouse and walked back along the crowded aisle.
“Astilbe is coming home this weekend. It will be so good to have her here. She will be a real veterinarian before long, now. Ken hopes she opens a practice in Bannoch, but I imagine she will want to join an established practice in a bigger place at the start of her career. Oh! And Paisley is going to interview me for her TV news station! I’ll get to share my recycling ideas and... oh, hey! Maybe I can share some of my wild plant recipes, too. You know lots of things you’d never think of can be edible.”
“Er, yes, I suppose so,” Elizabeth said. “But you’ve got to know what’s safe to eat and what isn’t.”
Judy sobered, saying, “Yes. It is so important to be sure of what we put into our bodies, whether food or drink... or even medicine.”
“That reminds me,” Elizabeth said. “Gil heard a rumor that someone is selling tainted drugs right here in Bannoch. Can you imagine?”
“You mean in our drugstore?” Judy asked, alarmed.
“I’m talking about illegal drugs. There have been some nasty overdoses and some of them are children,” Elizabeth replied.
“That makes me so angry,” Judy fumed. “It’s bad enough to sell all these nasty, unnatural chemicals without adding even more poison to them. Why would anyone do something so evil?”
Elizabeth put three five-dollar bills on the counter, picked up the bag, and carried it outside to select her birdhouse from the display.
“Evil is both the question and the answer, you know,” she said. “Evil exists to do harm.”
Judy bagged up the birdhouse with the hand-painted irises and handed it to Elizabeth with a sigh.
“Of course, you’re right. But faith can conquer evil, so I’m going to add this terrible problem to my prayer list,” Judy said.
“I will, too,” Elizabeth agreed with a nod. “Thanks for the birdhouse, dear. Bye!”
As her friend walked away, Judy returned to her project in the shop window, already praying under her breath.
…
“I’ve got great news, people of God!” Gideon announced as the congregation settled into the pews for the time of welcome and announcements at the following Sunday morning worship service.
Hope, sitting in the front pew, looked up at her handsome husband standing behind the pulpit and felt a rush of love and pride, just a little in awe of Gideon’s call to ministry.
As a fairly new believer, Hope had yet to feel that personal touch of the Spirit leading her into any particular area of service, but she had no doubt of the authenticity of Gideon’s call.
“Beloved, you may have heard the news that due to our dedicated youth leaders, Mavis and Barry, being called away by the unexpectedly early arrival of their latest grandchild, the young people’s annual camping trip was canceled,” he said.
A few sounds of disappointment greeted his words and he continued.
“However, we know God always makes a way for His will to be done and this is no exception. When she heard about the situation, our lovely First Lady stepped up and volunteered to fill in for the Millers, so our young people won’t be disappointed, after all. Can I hear an ‘
Amen?’”
The congregation erupted with praise and clapping, making Hope blush and squirm where she sat with her back to the people.
“I know some of you will want to offer Hope your help as she prepares to take our kids into the wilderness, so feel free to talk with her after the service about what you are willing to do,” he said, smiling down at his wife.
Gideon pointed out the announcements of meetings, events, and prayer needs in the worship bulletin, then stepped back into his chair on the platform while the minister of music stepped forward to lead the choir in a choral call to worship.
During the singing, Ty’Nisha Mitchell, sitting in the back on one side of the sanctuary with her parents, looked around to see who was in attendance.
Turning toward the back pew on the other side of the aisle, her eyes scanned the familiar faces and stopped, blinking in amazement.
She nudged her brother and gestured across the aisle.
“What’s she doing here?” he hissed.
“I invited her,” Ty’Nisha admitted.
TyVon stared at his sister in surprise, shaking his head.
“I’ll tell you about it after church,” she said, intercepting an admonishing glare from their father.
After talking about it with her mother, Ty’Nisha had determined to be kinder to her troubled classmate. When Dawn returned to school looking pale and sad, Ty’Nisha had felt so sorry for her that she’d approached to ask how she was feeling. Dawn had been wary and not very forthcoming. Uncomfortable with her silence, Ty’Nisha had blurted out an invitation to church and immediately felt foolish when Dawn snorted a laugh and walked away.
Seeing the girl, now, sitting hunched over and downcast, Ty’Nisha wondered how to respond. She’d never expected Dawn to actually show up.
Throughout the church service, Ty’Nisha kept stealing glances across the aisle, but Dawn never seemed to participate. She sat well away from the others in her pew with her arms wrapped around herself, looking down at her feet.
After the benediction, Ty’Nisha was shocked to see Dawn lingering at the back of the sanctuary. Feeling responsible for the girl’s presence, Ty’Nisha walked over to her.