“Do you have any sunglasses, Jeremy?”
“There’s a pair in the glove box.”
Richard fished around until he found them and then put them on. They were a very large pair of Carreras that covered most of his upper face, but they blocked the light. The pain in his head started to subside.
When they got to Richard’s apartment, Richard went into the bathroom to find a bottle of aspirin. He looked at himself in the mirror. A large bandage covered the side of his head.
That’s the same side I was bandaged on when I woke up in the hospital the last time…
Gently he pulled the tape until the cumbersome dressing came off, and then he searched around in the cabinet until he found some new tape and a smaller gauze pad. He made a dressing and covered up the stitches that ran in a line from the end of his eyebrow toward the top of his ear.
The guy really clocked me.
As he looked in the mirror he heard a voice, strident and whiney in his ear.
“Candyman, my main man, what’s happening?”
Startled, Richard looked around, but no one was there. He shook his head.
I mean, he really clocked me. Now I’m hearing voices!
Just then Jeremy called from the other room. “How are you doing, Richard?”
Richard didn’t answer.
“Richard?”
Richard wondered who Jeremy was calling. Then he remembered.
Richard? Oh…I’m Richard.
He answered Jeremy. “Fine, Jeremy…I’m fine.”
Jeremy walked in with a concerned look on his face. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes, we need to go. But you have to hang pretty close because my brains are a little scrambled.”
“Okay, pal. Whatever you want. And by the way, there might be another announcement tonight.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ve asked Jenny Hershberger to marry me.”
Richard frowned. That didn’t seem right. “Isn’t this the third time?”
“Yes, but this time she has promised to give me an answer. I think she’s finally ready to see things my way.”
“Okay. Well, good luck.”
Jeremy smiled. “I’m trusting the Lord that she’ll do what He wants her to do.”
As soon as Jenny walked out of the dressing room at the department store, Bobby stared in amazement. She wasn’t wearing her Amish clothes. Instead, she had on a simple sleeveless black dress cut just below her neckline. The hemline dropped modestly below her knees. Her golden-red hair was released from the confines of the bun and cascaded softly down around her shoulders. She smiled shyly at Bobby, and her lovely violet eyes flashed.
Bobby shook his head. “All I can say is, wow!”
“The last time I wore Englisch clothes was when I ran away with Jonathan. I must say this feels very awkward.”
“Well, you look great. Any reason why you’re going dressed this way?”
Jenny shrugged. “I’m not sure, Uncle Bobby. I hope I’m hearing this right.”
She handed him a bag with her other clothes in it. “I just need a couple more things—a purse and a white sweater. I hear it gets cold in Manhattan.”
They finished shopping, and before Bobby put her old clothes in the truck, Jenny took her kappe out of the bag and put it in her purse. Bobby looked at her quizzically.
Jenny shrugged again. “I just feel better if it’s close.”
Bobby helped her into the passenger side and then walked around and climbed in.
“You sure about this, Jenny? It’s a big change. Is it what you really want?”
“I don’t know, Uncle Bobby, but if I’m to give Jeremy an honest answer, I have to find out what his world is really like.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
The truck roared away from the curb and headed out Highway 222 toward New York City.
Jeremy and Richard arrived at the club where the announcement party was being held. The place was a beehive of activity. Cross & Crowne were slated to play a set after the announcement, and their roadies were busy setting up the band’s gear. The caterers were putting up a long buffet table, and delicious smells drifted out of the kitchen. Gary and Deeny were sitting at the grand piano going over a vocal harmony. When Richard walked in, they both got up and came over. Gary pointed at the bandage on Richard’s head.
“You going to be okay, Bro?”
“I’m just fine, Gary, thanks.”
Deeny took Richard by the arm. “Are you sure, Richard? You look a little pale.”
“Thanks for your concern, guys. I really appreciate it. But this is too big of a deal to call off now. So with your help, we’ll get through the business and then I’ll just sit back and listen to you play. I’m sure it’s going to be an exciting evening.”
As he started to walk away, a voice spoke plainly in his ear. “Let him who has laid his hand on the plow not look back! Press on to the goal! Press on to Jesus Christ! The one who gains Christ will rise with Him from the dead on the youngest day.”
Richard turned around. “What?”
Gary and Deeny looked puzzled. Richard stared at them.
“Didn’t you just say something to me?”
The two shook their heads.
“My mistake.”
Jeremy was giving some instructions to the staff, and Richard started to walk over toward him. And then he heard the voice again.
“And thine ears shall hear a word behind thee, saying, This is the way, walk ye in it, when ye turn to the right hand, and when ye turn to the left.”
Richard turned, but no one was there.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Only by Grace
BOBBY’S TRUCK ROARED DOWN THE road toward Manhattan as Jenny sat in silence.
It’s odd how life works out. Here I am, driving to New York to find the answers to all my questions…again. Some things never change.
She thought back to the day when Jonathan had agreed to help her find her birth mother and they had driven out of Apple Creek in his old Volkswagen van. When she remembered the vehicle, she giggled.
Bobby looked over. “What’s funny?”
“I was just thinking about Jonathan’s old van. That’s what I was riding in the last time I went to New York. Well, at least we were headed in that direction.”
“You mean the van with Timothy Leary collaged on the front and Guru Garagekey plastered on the door?”
Jenny giggled again. “Yes. Jonathan took himself so seriously. But he was actually a bit ridiculous.”
Bobby shook his head. “Well, he sure turned out to be a great guy.”
Jenny was quiet. Cars whizzed by them in the opposite direction, heading west. She counted telephone poles for awhile. Finally she spoke.
“He was a wonderful man, Uncle Bobby. I know we didn’t see you often when we lived in Paradise, so you didn’t get to really notice, but he changed so much. He loved the Lord with all his heart. He was a good husband and a wonderful father.”
“You still miss him, don’t you, Jenny?”
“Ja, I do. I miss him every day. He was my one true love.”
“Nothing worldly about loving someone with all your heart, Jenny. Sometimes I wish I had found that kind of love in my life.”
“Weren’t you married once, Uncle Bobby?”
“Yes, but that was a long time ago. It just didn’t work out. After that, I just kind of wandered in my life.”
“I don’t think you wandered, Uncle Bobby. You were sheriff for twenty-five years. That was important. And that wasn’t all.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think you had a very specific task in your life, one that was given to you by God, beyond your calling to be a sherriff. I think you were assigned to bless my family…you know, like a guardian angel. You were with my daed in the war, and you helped him to come home. Then when my mama was lost in the storm, you kept searching until you found her. And then when I was in trouble in the woods, you resc
ued me. And you had an even bigger part in finding my biological mother. And now it’s you who are helping me to…”
“To what, Jenny? Aren’t you going to New York to tell this guy you’re going to leave the church and marry him?”
“I…I don’t know. I guess so. When I turned Isaac down, I guess I assumed I would be leaving the church. Why else would I be wearing these clothes?”
“I can’t tell you that. But I do know this about what you just said…I mean about me being like your guardian angel. I think maybe God did send me to help your family. Knowing Reuben and Jerusha and you and Jonathan and now Rachel—that’s what has given my life meaning all these years. Strange, isn’t it?”
“Not so strange to me.”
They sat in silence again as the miles rolled away behind them. Bobby reached into the pack in his shirt pocket, pulled out a Camel, cracked the window, and lit up.
“So, Jenny. If we get to New York and you decide not to accept this guy’s proposal, then what?”
Jenny shook her head. “I don’t know, Uncle Bobby. I don’t know.”
“Testing…one, two, one, two…Glenn, can you bring me up in the monitor, please?”
Deeny Carbone was testing her microphone. There was a momentary squeal as the audio engineer cranked it too far. He yelled from behind the board, “Sorry about that, but I’ve already got it almost maxed. You guys will have to turn down your amps a little.”
While that was happening, the lighting crew was making sure that the three main singers of Cross & Crowne were bathed with lights and there were no dead spots on the stage. Charis Records was going to make sure the announcement party came off professionally. Jeremy King was watching the whole thing in awe.
“Wow, I had no idea there was so much preparation involved in getting a band ready to perform. Do they go through this at every show?”
Richard looked at Jeremy. “What?”
“Do they do this before every show?”
“Oh…yeah, this is standard operating procedure. There’s so much equipment, and so many things could go wrong.”
“I guess it’s a far cry from guys like John Fischer or Randy Stonehill singing Jesus folk music at little coffeehouses back in the sixties. When did it change?”
Richard smiled. “Well, I don’t know a lot about it since I don’t remember too much about those days.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot.”
Richard grimaced and rubbed his forehead.
“Are you all right, Richard?”
“I’ve got a splitting headache. The lights and the volume are kind of getting to me. I think if I want to make it through tonight I’ll go take a nap back in one of the dressing rooms.”
“Do you need any aspirin?”
“No, I brought some from my apartment. Say, Jeremy, the rest of the guys from Charis Records will be showing up about an hour before the announcement. Would you meet them for me and get them settled…you know, make sure they get pointed at the buffet? And a whole contingent is coming from the media. Make sure the box office has their press passes. Then come get me in time to freshen up a bit.”
“Consider it handled, Richard.”
The old Ford truck crept up Third Avenue looking for East Sixty-Second. Cabs were zipping by, and the cars behind Bobby were honking belligerently.
Bobby glanced at Jenny. “I don’t think we’re in Ohio anymore, Toto.”
Jenny grinned. “This isn’t Paradise, that’s for sure.”
Finally they reached the cross street and turned left. Jenny checked the address Jeremy had given her.
“It’s twenty-five East Sixty-Second, Uncle Bobby.”
They pulled up at the address. The club was in an old brick building with modern awnings attached over the barred windows. The sign above the door was simple and elegant. Paradisio. A strange chill went down Jenny’s spine.
“Maybe I was wrong, Uncle Bobby. Maybe we are in Paradise after all.”
Richard Sandbridge lay in the darkened dressing room. The pain in his head was becoming more intense.
Maybe I should have stayed in the hospital.
The room began to swirl, and Richard felt a little sick. He closed his eyes. Then suddenly he was in a van, an old van…
Another car passed going west, followed by a string of cars. He could see the waves of the lake lapping against the bare dirt shore. A dead stump sticking up out of the water came into view. Then the clouds over the lake opened up a bit, and the dim new moon faintly lit the bleak landscape, touching the waters of the lake with a ghastly illumination. The starkness of his surroundings and the events of the past few days crowded in on him, and fear gripped him. He saw Shub’s eyes, dead, like this horrible place, and he almost ran off the road. His breath was coming in gasps, so he pulled over to the side of the road.
Get it together, Johnny! Do something! Get a grip on yourself.
Richard jerked awake. The vision had been so real. Where was that? Who was Shub…and who was Johnny?
Bobby rolled down the window when the young man in the tuxedo knocked on it.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“Yes, we are supposed to go to a party in that club, but there’s no place to park.”
The young man looked at the truck and smirked. “You won’t find a parking place until you get to New Jersey. We do have valet parking, but I’m not sure any of our attendants would want to drive this hunk-a-junk over there.”
Bobby reached out through the window, took hold of the young man’s lapel, and pulled him close.
“I didn’t live through World War II and twenty-five years as a cop to be tweaked by a smart-aleck kid on the streets of New York. Now you give me exact instructions on how to get to your ‘val-ay parking,’ or I might make you show me in person—from the back of the truck.”
The young man’s demeanor changed noticeably. “Yes…yes, sir! It’s right around the corner. You’ll see the sign for Paradisio parking. Just give them this.”
He handed Bobby a ticket. “And if you’d like, sir, I can escort the young lady inside until you return.”
“Much better attitude, son. You do that.”
Richard got up and went into the bathroom. He reached in his pocket, grabbed the aspirin bottle, and shook four out into his palm. He looked up into the mirror. The man he saw there was not him. The face was different; the hair was long and the clothes…
A thin cotton embroidered shirt, torn bell-bottom jeans, and green suede Beatle boots…a leather-fringed jacket…he stared at his pale complexion…I’ve got to get out more…
Richard blinked his eyes. He was back, but he was beginning to feel unnerved.
This is getting way too weird. I should just forget this and go home.
There was a knock on the door. “Richard? Are you ready?”
“Jeremy. Do me a favor and get the band to play a couple of songs. Then we’ll do the announcement. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Okay, Richard, I’ll take care of it.”
Jenny walked into the club. The place was dark except for a brightly lit stage, where a few people were doing what looked like last-minute arrangements. A spotlight projected a message on a curtain behind the stage—Charis/Kerusso, Christ in the Arts. Jenny didn’t understand what that meant. As she stood and wondered, she heard a voice say her name.
“Jenny? Is that you?”
Jenny turned to see Jeremy walking toward her. He stopped in front of her and stared. “You…you look so different.”
She clutched her purse. Suddenly she felt as local as…a fish in a tree? Jonathan used to say that.
“Don’t you like it, Jeremy?”
“Of course I do! You look…absolutely amazing. Wonderful. I…”
Jenny blushed, and then she remembered Bobby.
“Jeremy, can you make sure that my uncle, Bobby Halverson, gets in? He drove me.”
“Sure, Jenny. Just wait here for a minute and I’ll put him on the guest list.”
Jeremy w
alked away, and Jenny sat down at a table. She looked around her at the crowded room. The place was awful—the stage lights and the darkness and people with no faces talking loudly…she was overwhelmed by it. As she sat there, a man came out on the stage and grabbed one of the microphones. Behind him some men with instruments came out and began plugging in. A very pretty girl with long dark hair sat down behind the grand piano. The man spoke.
“Welcome, everyone. Tonight we launch what we hope will be a new season for the gospel in the arts. All of you are here because you love the Lord and you want to see His name lifted up in the music industry and through book publishing. But before we get to our big announcement, we are going to have these guys open the evening with some of their songs. Here they are…Crossss aaaandd Crownnnne!”
The people in the club began cheering and shouting. Suddenly there was a huge roll of the drums and a loud, frantic-sounding solo from the guitarist, who twitched and swayed and then struck a triumphant pose with his last note. The band powered in with the first chords of the song, and the room was filled with ear-splitting sound. The singers stepped to the microphones and began to sing. It was something about “long ago in Jerusalem,” but Jenny couldn’t understand the words. The noise was deafening. She put her hands over her ears and got up. Jeremy came back and saw her standing there with a stunned look on her face.
“Jenny, what is it?”
She could barely hear him. She had to shout back at him.
“I can’t…I can’t, Jeremy. This won’t work. I’ve got to go.”
She turned and headed for the door. Jeremy ran after her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The Song
RICHARD STOOD AT THE DRESSING-ROOM SINK, filled his hands with cold water, and splashed it on his face. He could hear the band playing, and the volume did nothing to soothe his throbbing head. He dried his face and then looked around. The sunglasses were on a small table by the couch. He grabbed them and put them on. He felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his head that almost knocked him to his knees. He reached out toward the door…
Jenny's Choice (Apple Creek Dreams #3) Page 24