“Great,” Steve replied half heartedly.
“Don’t worry,” Pete quickly reassured him. “She’s just a loaner for the remainder of the summer. We can get through the winter without you, but Chuck and Deb and I expect you back in the spring…that is, if you can tear yourself away from your mom’s home cooked meals, and being waited on hand and foot.”
Steve gave a short laugh of derision. “It’s been over five years since I spent more than a few days in that town. Since Dad died, she has her committees and clubs…I’m never sure if she’s more pleased when I arrive or when I finally leave!”
Pete gave a strange wistful smile. “I was there when Reverend Graham called her to let her know about the accident. She can’t wait for you to get home. Family is a gift, Steve. You’ve wasted that gift for far too long.”
Steve studied the bleak look on Pete’s face, and frowned. “Don’t you have any family, Pete? I thought that you grew up near here?”
Pete shrugged and sighed in resignation. “I pretty much lost them when I was fourteen.”
Steve frowned in confusion. “But…I thought, I mean, you’ve always spoken of them as if they were still alive…?” Steve stumbled over the words, suddenly afraid he would offend Pete.
“Yeah, they are,” he replied dully. “But my mother no longer acknowledges me. I haven’t been ‘home’ in over ten years.”
Disbelief and confusion spread over Steve’s face. What was there not to love about Pete? Tall and steady, even-tempered, hard working, reliable and a Godly man, who was always willing to help someone out…what mother wouldn’t pray for her son to have all those virtuous qualities? But the empty look in Pete’s eyes when he spoke of his mother confirmed the truth of his words.
“I’m sorry….” Steve’s voice trailed off. He had no idea what to say in response to Pete’s statement.
Pete gave Steve a half smile. “It’s all right, really. For what I did, I deserved what happened, and most of the time, I’m at peace with it. It’s just…when I heard the concern in your mother’s voice, how worried she was, it does still make me wish it all could have been different for me.”
Steve shook his head. “Pete, it’s your own business, but, well, I’ve always been jealous of you! You’re every mother’s dream child!”
“Nightmare,” Pete corrected him. He stared off into space for a moment and took a deep breath before he spoke again.
“When I was fourteen, I shot and killed my little brother.” Pete paused again, as if gathering courage to continue. Steve waited in shocked silence.
“It was the first day of the hunting season,” he continued at last. “I’d gotten my first new gun for my birthday, and I could hardly wait to go hunting. I’d taken the gun safety course and I’d been out the year before with my dad, and I was so ready to prove myself. Best of all, I knew about this six pronged buck that lived not too far from the house, and I knew I was going to get him. I could just picture my dad’s face when he got home from work, and I was there in the yard with my first kill!” Pete shook his head sadly, remembering that October day, then he continued with his story.
“Josh, my little brother, was just ten, and about as annoying as any younger brother can be. He was always following me around, and that day, he followed me into the woods. I sent him home, of course, told him it wasn’t safe to be wandering around out there during hunting season, but it turns out he followed me anyway.
“So I got out to where I knew that buck would be passing through and hunkered down in some brush, downwind of the path. I waited on that trail for about an hour before I finally heard that buck rustling around in a thicket. I got so excited I just turned and let off a shot.”
Pete paused for a moment before he continued more quietly than ever. “It was a good shot. Josh was dead before he hit the ground.”
“I’m so sorry,” Steve whispered into the silence that seemed to stretch on forever.
Pete gave an ugly laugh. “That wasn’t the worst of it. I was so scared and overwhelmed when I saw it was Josh lying there. I didn’t know what to do….so I walked
home and never said a word. For two days.”
Steve was speechless with shock and horror, as he tried to imagine what those two days had been like for the teenaged Pete. He felt a sudden twist of shame that he had been so wrapped up in his own tragedy that he had never considered what burdens those around him were struggling with.
“What happened?” Steve asked at last when he could no longer endure the silence.
Pete sighed and shook himself. “At the end of two days of watching my parents and neighbors going crazy, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I confessed, and told my parents where the body was. My father,” Pete said with a painful smile, “slapped me so hard I bounced off the wall. Then he picked me up and held me close. We both cried.”
“And your mother?” Steve prompted quietly.
Pete shook his head. “She hasn’t talked to me in eight years. Dad tried to get us to work it out but she could barely even stand to look at me. So about a year after the accident I went to live with Dad’s sister, my Aunt Celia, in Asheboro. I stayed there until I graduated from high school. Dad came to visit me from time to time, but I could never go home. My mother won’t have me in the house, even now. She said she could have forgiven me for the accident, but leaving Josh alone in those woods for two days, and never telling a soul, that she could never forgive.
“I think you know how it was that first year,” Pete said with a sigh. “The self recriminations, wishing it could have been you instead; knowing that everybody in town is talking about you every time you walk through town, or down the hall at school. Friends avoid you…it was a relief, really, to move in with Aunt Celia. She lived far enough away that nobody knew what had happened.
“And Aunt Celia was great,”” Pete continued earnestly. She kept telling me that this was a fresh start and I should try to put it all behind me and try to move on with my life. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t forget Josh and I couldn’t forgive myself, any more than my mother could.”
Steve’s mouth was dry. He could picture the lonely boy, struggling to move on with his life – he’d been that lonely boy! But somehow, that wounded boy had been transformed into the calm and peaceful man that was Peter Bergen.
“What changed?” Steve asked tentatively.
Pete flashed him a smile. “Jesus, of course! And a preacher named Jeff Allan.” The memory of his mentor visibly brightened Pete’s whole being. He leaned forward in his seat, eager now to finish the story.
“My parents never had taken me to church much, but once I moved in with Aunt Celia, that changed. If the doors were open, she was there. And if she was there, she expected me to be there right beside of her. Choir, youth group, and preaching. LOTS of preaching!” Pete gave a mock shudder. “How I hated it! Except the singing, sometimes. And I thought Youth Group was stupid, but I did enjoy the camping trips in the Blue Ridge Mountains. I could put up with a lot of preaching just for the opportunity to walk through those old hills. It seemed like the only place I could breathe.” Pete took a sip from a bottle of water he had brought in with him and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
“Anyway, Pastor Jeff was a younger man, and he began to take a special interest in me. I was still pretty raw and withdrawn, and eaten up with the guilt. Aunt Celia had told him my story, and little by little, he began to coax me out. We talked about what I’d done, and then he’d talk to me about the people in the Bible. He taught me that the famous patriarchs in those stories weren’t such angelic people. They lied, and made mistakes and even killed people sometimes, but God still loved them. Not because they were perfect and blameless, but because they had faith, and trusted in the Lord no matter what. And when they messed up, they asked God to forgive them, and He did!” Pete shook his head in wonder. “The idea of unconditional love – that blew me away, Steve.
“It took awhile, but eventually I got tired of hating myself. I thought “what can it hurt
to try it God’s Way? I can’t get much more miserable than I already am.” So, I began to pray for forgiveness, and for Jesus to come into my life. It didn’t happen all at once, but one day, while I was reading the Bible and praying, I suddenly felt a presence. It filled me and I felt this peacefulness – there’s no words to describe it, Steve, but it was love like you never felt before.
Pete’s eyes grew soft at the memory. “That Spirit never left, either. It’s been with me everyday, helping me and guiding me. I know you don’t much like hearing about Jesus, Steve, but I’m here to tell you – He IS real.”
“I know He is real,” Steve replied quietly. “He spoke to me while I was alone on the mountain…I even prayed that Sinner’s prayer.”
Pete’s mouth dropped open in complete shock, and then his face began to glow with joy for Steve. He let out a little war hoop as he jumped up from his chair and wrapped his huge arms around Steve in a great bear hug. At Steve’s grunt of pain, Pete instantly let go and smacked himself on the forehead, laughing and apologizing at the same time.
“This is incredible!” He cried. Pete reached out to hug Steve again, but stopped himself as he saw Steve wince in anticipation. “Aggh!” He cried in happy frustration, waving his arms in the air. “If you weren’t already so broken I’d hug you to pieces!” Pete threatened. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He demanded beginning to pace the room in his enthusiasm.
Steve smiled, a little embarrassed. “I was kind of scared that I was just hallucinating,” he admitted. But then some of Pete’s excitement began to infect his own spirit. “Do you think it could have been real, Pete? Does God still speak to people?”
“Don’t be silly, of course He does!” A third voice interjected firmly.
“For a brief second the two young men stared at each other in surprise, before turning toward the door. Reverend Graham leaned against the door jam, a quizzical look in his eyes.
With a cry of joy, Pete flung himself at the preacher and enveloped the white haired man in a bear hug. The surprised Reverend disappeared from Steve’s view. When he emerged a few moments later he was laughing but looking a little confused at Pete’s animated behavior. “What was that all about?” He asked, entering the room and placing a gentle hand on Steve’s uninjured shoulder.
Steve looked up into Reverend Graham’s kindly face, feeling even more embarrassed still to be talking to Reverend Graham about something that until three weeks ago, he had dismissed as bunk.
“I prayed the Sinner’s Prayer – when I was up on the mountain,” he admitted at last.
Reverend Graham’s hand froze on Steve’s shoulder. “Ah sweet Jesus, thank you!” He breathed in an awed whisper.’
Steve was shocked to see tears misting the older man’s eyes, despite the smile on his lips. Then suddenly, he too hugged Steve, thought better of it as Steve groaned in pain, and ended up hugging Pete in a fierce, backslapping exchange of joy.
Steve looked on in surprise at their reaction. It had never occurred to him that his admission would create such a commotion.
Still breathing hard and with joyful tears brimming out of his eyes, Reverend Graham dropped into the seat Pete had just vacated and took Steve’s hand. “So tell me the whole story,” the preacher prompted him. “I’ve been waiting a long time to hear this!”
Steve was startled. “You have?” He asked uncertainly.
Reverend Graham shook his head, the blissful grin never leaving his face. “Steve, I have prayed for you, my family has prayed for you, and the elders of my church have prayed for you every day by name, since the day of your accident.”
Steve’s eye’s widened in frank disbelief. “Every day?”
Reverend Graham nodded. “Every day,” he confirmed. “Even after you went to college and seemed to have left Jacksonville forever, we prayed for you.”
Steve dropped his head, humbled and ashamed. “I yelled at you,” he whispered. “That last time you came to see me in Jacksonville. I, I don’t know what I said, exactly, but I know I said some pretty ugly things. I didn’t want any part of God or religion…why would you keep praying for me after all I said and did?”
Reverend Graham shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “You were lost, and in the far country, running away from God. We knew we would have to pray a long time, to help you find a way back to Him - and praise God, you have!”
Steve looked at Reverend Graham in awe. He realized that he had been given a great gift. It was no small thing to know that even on his worst days, there had been people praying for him by name, lifting him up and caring about him even when he barely cared about himself.
He had been wandering in an empty wasteland of guilt and self hate for years now. What a difference simply saying “Yes, Lord,” had already made! It was just a small step, but he knew it was a step in the right direction. For the first time since the accident, he felt a glimmer of hope for his future. He knew that he had a long way to go still, but now he was eager to begin the journey!
Further conversation ended as the red headed nurse arrived with Steve’s discharge papers in hand. “All right now,” the nurse called out as she rolled a wheel chair into Steve’s room and parked it near his seat. “Are you ready to go home at last, Mr. Williams?” She asked with a smile.
Steve smiled back in agreement. “Yes, ma’am, I am”
Ch 16
A New Creation
Steve’s hand slapped the edge of the pool. Twenty Laps! Breathing hard, he felt a glow of satisfaction and flipped onto his back, floating lazily in the warm water. He stared up through the glass enclosure of the indoor pool at the gray and stormy March sky. Last week it had been a balmy sixty-five degrees. Driving down Western Blvd., you could almost see the buds on the long rows of Bradford Pears swelling until they exploded into millions of small white flowers. This week, it was thirty-three degrees, and instead of flower petals falling gently on a soft spring breeze, the sky was spitting a nasty mixture of snow and rain, guaranteed to chill your bones.
March was always a miserable month, Steve reflected. Teasing you with the first hints of spring, and then slamming you with the remnants of winter. Still, he knew that if he were at Hanging Rock today, there would still be snow in the mountains, and hard frost in the ground even now. Winter wouldn’t begin to loosen its hold on the park until some time in April.
Slowly, Steve made his way back down the lane, doing a lazy backstroke. He could feel the ache in his arm and side still, and there were numb spots on his leg where he had shattered the bone, but overall, Steve was pleased with his progress. Since the casts had come off in November, he had worked hard to regain his full range of movement in his damaged limbs. Each day he swam laps, and then spent another hour in the weight room rebuilding the atrophied muscles in his arm and leg. His progress had been steady, and he began to believe he would be able to return to Hanging Rock by early summer.
Steve reached the opposite end of the pool, rolled to his stomach and dove under the roped lanes to the ladder. He pulled himself up, grimacing a little at the flash of pain that traveled through his shoulder. Steve sighed, already missing the weightlessness of the pool. In the water, he could almost forget how much damage the fall had done to him. As soon as he hoisted himself back onto dry land, though, it was clear that he had a long way to go!
Still, he reflected, he had a lot to be thankful for, and if falling off a cliff had been what was necessary for God to get his attention, Steve was willing to consider it one of the luckiest days of his life!
Gone were the nightmares of the car crash; the anger and hurt had faded too, just as Pete had promised. Jesus had brought peace and acceptance. Was he still guilty? Yes, but now, he was forgiven. Steve clung to that. These last few months had brought just as much healing to his spirit as it had to his body.
Steve grabbed his towel off the hook and headed to the showers, struggling not to give into the throbbing in his thigh, which all too often resulted in a pronounced limp.
F
or the past three months, Steve had been working part time as a desk clerk at the Bayshore Hotel, and one of the perks was free use of all the spa facilities after his shift. Refreshed and clean, he climbed into his mother’s old Bonneville station wagon and headed over to Reverend Graham’s church. Tonight was the New Believers Christian Fellowship and Bible Study, something that Steve was surprised to find that he had begun to look forward to. He had always scoffed at reading the Bible, but now, it seemed like he couldn’t spend enough time soaking in the Word. Reverend Graham’s New Believer class gave him an opportunity to explore what he was learning with other people who had many of the same questions as he had himself.
Their group was made up of seven people. Three were young, single marines, barely into their twenties who attended whenever they were not on duty or out in the field. There was also the Morgan’s, a married, thirty-something couple who attended whenever they could find a babysitter for their rambunctious toddler. The last member of their class was a young woman named Beth, who worked as a nurse at one of the pediatric clinics in town.
By virtue of the similarity in their ages, and the fact that they were the only two who attended nearly every meeting, Steve and Beth frequently sat together, and had even gone out for coffee once or twice after class. Beth was lively and quick to laugh. When she walked into a room, heads turned her way. She had a quality about her that seemed to draw people to her. What amazed Steve was her interest in him! Why she would be interested in a gimp like him was beyond Steve, but he knew when a girl was flirting with him, and the signs were all there. Steve sighed. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the idea of dating someone still, but he did enjoy her company.
Steve pulled himself out of the car and stretched his leg. It still cramped painfully if he had to drive very long. He grabbed his Bible and the bucket of chicken he’d picked up on the way across town, and headed for the small classroom where the New Believers met each week, setting the fried chicken on the table. He was about twenty minutes early, so he went back to the kitchen and brought out some paper plates, cups and napkins, then he took the time to refill the oil in the sanctuary candles.
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