“Lucky them,” Shelby muttered.
Carter could tell that she’d meant the comment for his ears only, but there had been a pause in Frank’s lecture and everyone had heard.
“In one sense, yes they are.” Frank scratched at his right eyebrow. “The facilities will be closer to their back door. But look at it another way. Would you want folks traipsing through your backyard in the middle of the night when nature calls?”
Everyone laughed, and the tension in the crowd dissipated. After a few additional instructions, Frank started handing out assignments. Shelby pulled Carter back from the crowd.
“I just thought of a way I might be able to keep this stuff cold.” She shrugged her shoulders, indicating the insulin she was carrying around. He knew it was important—in some ways his life depended on it—but his mom was freaking out about this. It wasn’t their only problem.
“Hasn’t it already been exposed to the heat?”
“No. I wrapped it in ice packs. They’re melted now, but they did pretty well the first twenty-four hours.”
“So what’s your plan?”
“I’ll explain later. We have an hour until church. Find out your team assignment and then—”
“Meet you there? Sure. But maybe I should stay and start working on our new bathroom.” It came out more sarcastic than he intended. No one had asked for this situation.
“Listen, Carter.” His mom pulled off the ball cap and finger-combed her hair away from her face, and then she set the cap back on her head. “There’s a lot to do, and for the next few days or weeks, everything is going to be urgent. But if we don’t attend to our spiritual needs, if we don’t draw strength from our church family, well… this thing could roll over us like a bad storm.”
Carter reached up and tweaked her cap. “Message received. I’ll see you there.”
“Meet me at the back of the sanctuary?”
“Sounds good.” He watched her disappear around the corner, then turned his attention back to Frank. He was trying to get everyone to listen as he explained about neighborhood patrols.
Apparently Abney wasn’t the safe small town it had once been. Patrols would cover a stretch of two blocks with the cross street in the middle open to neighborhood residents only. The folks on patrol would be armed, and anyone sixteen or older was needed.
Carter signed up for a time slot. His mom might not like him standing guard, but they needed able-bodied people. It would only be two hours every afternoon—from four to six. He supposed the later shifts, the more dangerous ones, would be covered by the men in their neighborhood.
Frank pointed him toward a group of folks. “They’re building the latrine closest to your home, son.”
So he moseyed over to his new group—which consisted of a single mom, someone’s grandmother, and two couples who looked as if they hadn’t moved from the couch much in the last few years. Those were all harsh thoughts. He realized it and murmured a low, “Sorry, God,” before he joined them.
Thirty minutes later they had a plan, and Carter asked to be excused so he’d have time to meet his mom.
One of the larger women, Rhonda, said, “How nice to see a young man attending church.” Her husband, Ed, joked that it might be a good idea for all of them to go.
But no one asked to join him, so Carter figured it was just chatter.
He thought of what his mom had said, about their spiritual needs and drawing strength from their church family. What were spiritual needs? He understood bodily needs—food, shelter, safety. But he wasn’t exactly sure what his spiritual needs were. If it made his mom feel better, he’d go, but he had doubts as to whether going to church was practical or a waste of valuable time.
THIRTY-FOUR
Carter walked the mile to the church. The parking lot was noticeably empty, but most folks had walked like he had. He pulled the door open and stepped inside, expecting to see the kind of crowd they’d had the night before. Instead the group was about half the size of what he’d see on a normal Sunday morning.
The smaller crowd made him feel conspicuous, so he stood at the back, scanning the room to see if his mom had arrived. He’d never been in the sanctuary when the lights weren’t on. It gave the place an ancient feel, with light piercing through the stained-glass windows. His mom walked in a few minutes later with Max. Following a few steps behind them were Bianca and Patrick.
Carter let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He was being overly paranoid. It wasn’t as if his mom could have disappeared between their house and the church.
He, his mom, and their friends found a pew halfway toward the front of the sanctuary. “How’d your errand turn out?” he asked.
“Great.” She offered him a smile that seemed a little pasted on.
“So where did you go?”
Before she could answer, the youth minister moved to the front of the sanctuary and told them all to stand for an opening prayer.
“I’ll tell you later,” she assured him.
Sitting there between his mom and Max, listening to Chris pray to God for wisdom and mercy and grace, Carter convinced himself that everything would be fine. Whatever was ahead, they would face it together, and they would be okay. But throughout the prayer and the next two songs—one a praise song, the other a hymn—his mind kept returning to the plans for their latrine. How were they going to dig a hole nine feet deep?
Pastor Tony moved to the front of the pulpit. As usual, he wore a dress shirt and tie. He had to be miserable in those clothes. The room was hotter than normal without air-conditioning or fans. Carter supposed the stained-glass windows looked nice, but they weren’t very functional. They couldn’t even be opened to allow a breeze inside.
If Pastor Tony noticed the heat, Carter couldn’t tell.
Together they read some verses from the Old Testament, more from the New Testament, and finally some words from the Psalms.
“Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good. His love endures forever. Amen?”
People squirmed in their seats. Someone began to fan herself with a pamphlet. Another person checked his watch.
“Amen.” A short elderly woman near the front nodded her head, white hair bobbing up and down, up and down.
“The Lord is good and his love endures forever. Amen?”
There were more nods of agreement and a handful of folks murmuring amen.
Carter had been to church with a few of his friends, when there was some sort of special youth emphasis. One of those churches was what his mom called charismatic, but the church they attended wasn’t. In fact, there wasn’t much audience participation at all. He glanced at Max, who had his eyes fixed on Tony. Patrick stared out one of the windows, his arm around Bianca, who was weeping for some reason. Suddenly, Carter felt a giant lump in his own throat, as if someone were squeezing his windpipe.
Was he about to cry too? Here in front of everyone? He blinked his eyes rapidly and tried to slow the thumping of his heart. He’d only felt that way once before—when Max’s parents had moved away. He thought he remembered crying when his grandparents had died, but he’d been pretty young then—second grade. He definitely didn’t remember his dad or his dad’s death. How could he? He’d been a little kid when it happened.
An outsider might have said that everyone in Carter’s family had died—but it had never felt that way to him. It had always been him and his mom. She’d made him feel secure, and she had been his entire family. He missed his grandparents terribly, but when Max’s parents were living next door, they were willing and ready to fill the void.
When Max’s parents moved, Carter felt as if his adopted family were leaving. He’d been about to start fifth grade, but suddenly he wasn’t interested in his new teacher or returning to school to see his friends. Max’s parents had spoiled him, but he didn’t understand it at the time. After they moved, he and his mom were alone again. That time had been very dark. He thought the fabric of the world had ripped in two.
This pr
essure in his chest reminded him of then.
Pastor Tony was still talking. He held up his Bible and said, “I will sing of the Lord’s unfailing love forever!” This time he didn’t wait for an amen. He walked out from behind the pulpit, tugged on his shirt collar, hitched up his pants, and sat down on the top step.
“Forever, friends. Not until he grows weary of us. Not until his heart turns toward others who are more faithful. Not until the lights go out, but forever.”
Amens popped like kernels in a skillet—to the left and the right, from folks all around Carter.
“Psalm 138:8 says that the Lord has a purpose for me and a purpose for you. He will fulfill that purpose, and his love will endure—forever. Did we lose friends in last night’s fire? Yes. Yes, we did.”
Carter had been mesmerized by his pastor’s intensity, an almost pleading desire for them to understand. But at the mention of lost friends, he turned to his mom. She shook her head once, quickly, and reached for his hand, her eyes still trained on Tony.
“There may be dark days ahead. I suspect there are. God help us, I suspect there are.” Tony stood and walked back up the steps to stand behind the pulpit. The armpits and back of his shirt were stained with sweat.
“I only ask that you remember: He is good, and his love will last all of our days. Or in the words of the psalmist, ‘The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever.’”
THIRTY-FIVE
Shelby realized that she should have told Carter about the deaths the night before. Perhaps protecting him from the truth had been an ill-conceived parental reflex. She couldn’t shield him from the harshness of the world that was now their life.
Tony ended his sermon, and before they concluded the service, Chris asked them to exit by way of the fellowship hall. “We have placed sheets of butcher paper around the room. Those on the south side list needs. Those on the north list resources. If you have anything to add to either list, either for yourself or for someone else, please do.”
After they stood to sing the doxology, Carter peppered her with questions. “More people died? Was it anyone we knew? How? And when were you going to tell me?”
“I’ll explain it on the way home. I-I should have told you. I’m sorry.”
Carter stuck his hands in his pockets and ducked his head. It was an adolescent pose. What did she expect? He was only seventeen, but they both knew he was going to have to grow up faster than either would have wished.
Shelby turned her attention to her best friend. “Are you okay, Bianca?”
“Yes. I’m just… I’m emotional is all.”
“How is your father?”
Bianca shrugged and rocked her hand back and forth.
“Will you let us know if there’s anything we can do?”
“Of course.”
They followed Patrick and Max into the fellowship hall, where the light was brighter from skylights in the ceiling. It was also warmer, but someone had propped open both doors to let in a gentle breeze. Shelby wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but she was surprised to see the long lists on butcher paper adorning the walls.
“Someone was busy last night,” Max said.
“As were we, amigo.” Patrick led the way to the closest sheet of butcher paper. “As were we.”
The list of needs covered everything from food to lodging to diapers. Carter moved over to talk to his friends, while Shelby, Max, Patrick, and Bianca spread out as they read one list after another. The needs far outweighed the resources, but still Shelby was surprised.
Someone had an RV that a family could stay in for as long as needed. Another person had a wheelchair in the garage that hadn’t been used in at least a year. If anyone could get it to the hospital, they’d be happy to donate it. Someone else had an extra-large backyard that they couldn’t begin to farm themselves. They were offering use of the land in exchange for a portion of the harvest.
People obviously had very little to share, but the fact that they were sharing tugged at the strings wrapped around Shelby’s heart.
“Kind of surprising,” Max said.
She hadn’t realized he was standing behind her, and she didn’t want to turn around and face him—not while tears were stinging her eyes.
“That there are so many needs?”
“And so many resources. You know, Shelby…” His voice dropped so that only she could hear him. “This is a good idea. If you came to High Fields with me—”
“I’ve already told you my decision.”
“Someone could live in your home. We could list it right here.” He stepped closer, close enough that he could have wrapped his arms around her, and then he pointed to a blank space at the end of the list. “Imagine it here: ‘Available house for family of four.’”
“Four?” She stepped to the side, putting a small amount of distance between them. Though the lists they were studying were quite serious, she couldn’t help laughing. “You’re going to put four people in my little house?”
“Two bedrooms—mom and dad in one, two kids in the other. It would work. Or maybe Mr. and Mrs. Smitty could stay there.”
“I had forgotten all about them.”
“Bianca and I saw them as we walked over this morning,” Patrick said, catching the tail end of their conversation. “They’re staying until things settle down. Mr. Smitty has some angina, which he has medicine for, but he would rather stay put until he’s less anxious. Plus, it’s a long walk back to Dallas, and they’d have to bum a ride with someone since their car doesn’t work.”
“Does Mrs. Smitty agree with that decision?” Max asked.
“She says the city will be worse than whatever they have to endure here.”
“She’s probably right.” Shelby crossed her arms and tapped her index finger against her left elbow. She needed to get to work. She hadn’t even told anyone she had found a solution to her most immediate problem.
She’d agreed to work at Green Acres in exchange for shelf space in the refrigerator to keep Carter’s insulin cold. The nursing home had a massive generator with plenty of gas, and they needed the help. She started to mention it but stopped midsentence when Pastor Tony walked up to them.
“Morning, Pastor.” Max shook hands with Tony. It was such a natural action, something she’d seen him do a million times.
“Small group this morning,” Bianca said. “I was a little surprised.”
“Especially after the crowd last night.” Patrick’s expression turned suddenly serious. “You’d think folks would attend this morning, that they’d want to hear your words of encouragement.”
“Thank you. Good to know you were listening.” Tony cleared his throat. “In times like these, people either fall on their faith—fall on their knees—or they try to handle it on their own. Last night people were scared, bewildered even. They showed up here—the one place they knew would be safe. This morning they decided to stay home when they looked around and saw how much work needed to be done.”
“Like building latrines?” Carter had been talking to the youth director, but he scooted over to join them.
“Exactly. Faced with no one to take care of their toilet needs, church will often get pushed to the backseat.”
“How’s your family?” Shelby asked. She’d seen the pastor’s wife during the service. He also had two small children that were running around on the other side of the room, playing as if nothing had changed.
“We’re good. Peggy’s made of very tough stuff, and both of my boys take after their mother.”
They spoke another few moments, and then Patrick, Bianca, and Carter waved goodbye and drifted toward the door. Shelby held back with Max.
“Say, Tony, I’ll be headed to the ranch soon.”
“I thought you might want to check on your parents.”
“It’s more than that—I plan on staying as long as this thing lasts. I’m trying to convince Shelby and Carter to go with me.”
Tony crossed his arms and
smiled. “Hunker down mentality, huh? Can’t say I blame you.”
“I know you have that little place to the east of town. If you need fuel to get there, I could try and get you enough.”
“No need, but thank you, Max.”
“You aren’t going out there?” Shelby asked.
“No. Peggy and I talked about it, but our place is here—leading the flock.”
“If things get bad enough, the flock may turn on you,” Max said.
“That’s always a possibility, but ministry is what we’re called to do.”
“If you change your mind…”
“I would let you know, but I doubt that will happen. Thank you, Max. I’ll pray for safety for both you and your parents.” He turned to Shelby. “And I’ll pray that you know God’s will as far as where you should be with Carter.”
Those words echoed in Shelby’s mind as she made her way outside and down the sidewalk.
God’s will…
Had she given any thought to that?
Or had she simply reacted to the events pressing down on them?
THIRTY-SIX
Max slowed his pace to match Shelby’s. They walked toward Carter, Patrick, and Bianca, who were waiting under the large pecan trees that bordered the church’s parking area.
Patrick said, “Bianca and I are headed to her parents’ house. Seems they were chosen to host a latrine.”
“That’s a good thing,” said Bianca. “Mamá would have never agreed to walk into someone else’s backyard to use the toilet.”
“How are things at your place?” Shelby asked Patrick.
“Okay. There was some construction taking place on the cross streets prior to the flare, so we actually have two porta-potties that someone requisitioned—”
“Requisitioned from whom?” Max asked. He realized belatedly that a lawyerly tone had crept into his voice.
Patrick held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Wasn’t my idea. I woke up this morning and they’d been moved—one to each end of the apartment buildings.”
Deep Shadows Page 16