Conspiracy of Bones

by Tracy Krauss

  He sat in the family room, in one of the large cushioned chairs, cradling his arm, which was in a sling, with his good hand. There was something on TV; noise that he really wasn’t very interested in, but that helped keep his mind occupied.

  "How’s the shoulder today?" Russ asked, coming into the room and sitting in the chair beside Mark.

  "Mending, I suspect," Mark responded.

  "What’s on?"

  "Um, I’m not sure," Mark said honestly. "I guess I wasn’t paying much attention."

  Russ nodded. They were silent for a few moments, staring at the TV with glass eyes.

  "You know, son," Russ finally said. "You did the right thing. Telling the truth about your find, I mean. No one could have predicted what would happen after that."

  Mark nodded. "I know. But I’m still coming to terms with that, I guess. It just seems so senseless, now."

  "God’s truth is never senseless," Russ stated.

  "Even when innocent people die?" Mark asked.

  "I don’t pretend to know all the answers. Just know, that in His sovereignty, God does."

  "I know that. Really. I’m very grateful that you and Deanie never gave up praying for me."

  "That’s what parents do.” Russ smiled.

  "It does hurt, though, that the dig is getting so much bad publicity. I mean, I could handle it if it was just my own reputation that was getting slammed, but the whole dig is being discredited. It makes Laura and John’s deaths seem even more pointless."

  "Satan will have his day," Russ mused. "But I believe that what Satan means for harm, God can still use for good. Someday you’ll be vindicated. And there are still lots of people out there that believe you."

  "Anyone that will give me job?" Mark asked with a sardonic grin.

  "Give it time," Russ advised.

  "True. Dr. Hazzard is still on my side, anyway, although I’m afraid he’s taking some flack for it."

  "God works all things out -"

  Mark cut his father off and finished the sentence. "For good to them that love the Lord."

  "You got it.”

  "Don’t you two just look cozy, sitting in here together having a man to man chat?" Deanie stood in the doorway to the family room.

  "Well, hello there," Russ said. "Come sit with me. There’s room for two." He gestured to his lap.

  Mark smiled. He had hoped that some day he could share that kind of lasting relationship with someone. With Amy. They had only spoken once since his return, and despite his revelations about his new found faith, she seemed distant at best.

  "Actually, I was just coming to tell you that we have company," Deanie said. "Amy Walters," she added, giving Mark a knowing look. "Her car just pulled into the drive."

  "In that case, I better leave you alone," Russ said, standing up. "We’ll send her right in."

  Mark’s heart was pounding in his chest. Amy had come to see him. It was the first time they would meet face to face since his arrival back in Winnipeg. He straightened himself in the chair a bit and then winced with the effort.

  "Mark," Amy greeted, entering the room. Mark made a motion to stand and grunted. "No, please! Just stay sitting. I was so worried when I heard you’d been hurt." She perched on the edge of the seat that his father had just vacated.

  "Were you?" Hope soared in Mark’s breast. He settled back down into the comfort of the cushions.

  "I was," she stated. "I was grateful when I found out you’d be okay. And when I heard everything else, too." She trailed off, looking away.

  "Amy, you have to believe me when I say there was nothing going on between me and -" he almost choked on the last word. "Me and Laura."

  "I believe you," she said quietly. “I’m so sorry, Mark. About everything."

  He nodded, unable to speak for fear he would burst into tears in earnest. What must she think of him? That he really cared for Laura in that way? Somehow he needed to reassure her. "Honestly, Amy. It was long over between us. But that doesn’t mean she deserved to die."

  "I know that, Mark. It must be very hard for you."

  He nodded again.

  "And I was very happy when I found out you had given your life to Christ. Sorry if I sounded kind of - distant - the other day when we talked on the phone. I guess I was still in shock over everything that’s happened."

  "I wondered about that," Mark said, trying for a feeble smile. "I was going to call the very night I accepted Christ, and then I decided I’d wait and tell you in person. Probably not that smart, considering everything else that took place in between."

  "But the bottom line is, you’ve made a decision for Christ," Amy stated.

  "Yes. Yes, I have, Amy. It’s the genuine thing, not just a way to get you to marry me."

  Amy looked down at her hands, clearly flustered. "Mark -" she said hesitantly.

  "Amy, you must know, my feelings haven’t changed. I still love you and want you to marry me. If you’ll have me, now that I’m a bit defective." He gestured at the wrapping on his arm.

  She smiled. “It’s not that.”

  "Then what is it?" Mark asked. "I get the distinct impression that this is not going the way I had hoped. Is there someone else?”

  "No. Of course not.” She sat up straighter. "Look, Mark. I still care about you, but I’ve had some time to think about things while you’ve been gone. And well, maybe I am too young to know my own mind about something so important."

  "Who told you that?"

  "Nobody," she defended. "I’ve come to that conclusion all on my own. See, that’s part of the problem. You treating me like a child. And maybe in some ways, I am. I’d like to grow up, Mark, on my own terms. Not because you tell me to."

  "I see. You think I’ve been overbearing."

  "No. You were sweet and attentive and made me feel desirable -"

  "Because you are," he interrupted.

  "Let me finish! I just feel like I need to see the world. Follow my own dreams before I settle down. You’ve traveled the world; followed your dreams. Surely you of all people must understand how I feel."

  "What are your dreams, Amy?" Mark asked quietly.

  "To be a missionary. To help people. To tell people about Jesus," she replied just as softly.

  Mark surveyed her angelic young face. Tenderness overwhelmed him. "Then you should follow your dreams, Amy Walters," he said finally. "I won’t stop you."

  "Thank you," she barely whispered. She jumped up and rushed to his chair, kissing him on the forehead, the way a schoolgirl would kiss an aging elder. Then she swept from the room on a sob.

  Mark sat for a moment, blinking back his own tears. It was the most profound act of love he had ever shown her - setting her free.

  Was this how God worked all things out for good? Two friends dead, another criminally insane, and utter rejection from the love of his life. And yet… he couldn’t help going back to the next part of Romans 8.

  “But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  "Um, Dad? Can I talk with you a minute?" Mark asked from the doorway of his father’s study.

  Russ looked up from the book he was reading. "Sure. Anytime. Come on in." He removed his reading glasses and placed them on the desk.

  "I’ve been in contact with Charlene Howard again, since I’ve been back." He scanned his father’s face for recognition. "My… sister in Calgary," he finished, hesitating on the word ‘sister’.

  Russ nodded. "I see."

  "I was thinking I might like to go out there. To meet with her and... and the rest of the family." He stopped, holding his breath for his father’s reaction.

  Russ steepled his fingers, rocking back and forth in his chair.

  "I kno
w you don’t approve," Mark rushed forward, "but I think I might need the closure myself after all these years, and -"

  Russ silenced his son with a raised finger. "Mark, I think you should know that Deanie and I have talked about this. We knew it was coming. And… well, we both think you should go." He looked squarely into his son’s eyes.

  "You’re sure?" Mark surveyed his father closely.

  Russ nodded. "Absolutely. Whatever demons I need to exorcize in relation to your mother are mine and mine alone. You shouldn’t be held hostage by my own shortcomings."

  "But -"

  "And besides that," Russ cut him off, "it’s time I faced up to the facts anyway. I was not totally blameless in my first marriage. I wasn’t the husband I should have been. I was controlling and bitter and I see that now. I’ve been carrying this offence way to long. It’s time I gave it over to the Lord once and for all. You deserve to know the rest of your family. It’s simply the right thing to do."

  "Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it."

  ◇ ◇ ◇

  Mark paid the driver then stepped out of the cab. Another wave of anxiety hit him as his stomach tightened into a hard ball. Dr. Mark Graham, big wig archaeologist, world traveler and scientist; a man who had seen more than his fair share of trouble these days - shaking in his boots.

  He was in Calgary, where the other half of his ‘family’ lived. Charlene had given him the address to her home and the rest of the family would be there, waiting. Charlene, Tom, little Cade, Scott, the brother he hadn’t met yet, and - her. The woman who had given him birth. He took a deep breath. Well, no use in stalling any further. Might as well face the music.

  It had been a long journey around the world and back again, but somehow it seemed that this was the culminating moment, when all the questions about his own worth as a person - his own purpose on this earth - would be answered. No matter what the outcome of the meeting, he knew God could use it for good as he put his new found faith to the test once again. Perhaps it was symbolic of his life in general. He had no idea what his future held. It certainly was not what he had expected or even hoped.

  And yet… in the midst of all the devastation, he had felt the hand of God, and for that, despite everything else that had happened over the past year, he was grateful. Maybe that was all that really mattered.

  Epilogue

  Despite the khaki hat, the African sun beat down mercilessly on his head as Mark strode down the sidewalk. Mid afternoon was no time to be out in Harare. He needed to find some shelter. He spotted a small sidewalk café across the street, and headed in that direction, dodging the slow moving traffic that clogged the street.

  He ducked under the awning, feeling the immediate reprieve from the punishing rays of the sun. Most of the tables were occupied already. He spotted one with a lone woman - a white woman at that, sitting against the brick of the building.

  "Excuse me? May I join you?" he asked. His heart literally stood still as recognition dawned. "Amy? Is that you?"

  She looked up, clearly as taken aback as he was. She nodded mutely, then managed to squeak out. "Please sit down."

  He did, the chair scraping along the cement as he pulled it out before sitting.

  "What are you doing here?" they both asked at once and then laughed.

  "You first," Mark said politely.

  "I’m working at an orphanage for victims of Aids," Amy informed.

  Mark nodded. "Of course. And telling the children about Jesus, no doubt," he added with a grin.

  "Naturally," she said with a smile of her own. "And you? Are you working on location somewhere near?"

  "Sort off," Mark said. "I’m not really sponsored by anyone in particular. I’m just here on my own to do a little follow up."

  "Oh? What about?"

  "Just a tip off a friend gave me once," Mark supplied. "About a certain casket that might be buried somewhere in the mountains."

  "I see."

  "I can’t believe I’ve run into you after all this time. In Harare, of all places.” Mark shook his head. How many years had it been now? Four? Five? He’d lost track. But Amy... Amy Walters was as beautiful in his eyes as ever. He stole another glance and noticed she was surveying him just as intently.

  She looked down. "Yeah. Imagine."

  There was a moment of silence before Mark spoke up again. "Harmony and Cory had a son. He’s about six months old."

  "Yes, I heard."

  "Of course."

  "You must be a very proud Uncle."

  "Indeed I am."

  "I’m sorry I didn’t make it to their wedding. I was working with ‘Doctors Without Borders’ at that time, and was somewhere on the Pacific."

  "You were missed. By more than one person," he added, trying to catch her eye.

  She kept her gaze down. "Oh. I’m still trying to get used to the African sun. It’s so intense."

  "Amy, look at me, please," Mark said.

  She looked up, her breath catching in her throat.

  "You know, you are still as beautiful as I remember you."

  "Mark, don’t," Amy pleaded. "After all this time -"

  "I’ve never stopped loving you, you know. There has been no one else since you, you know that? I’ve pretty much resigned myself to a life as an eccentric old bachelor. But now, seeing you again, I feel this small glimmer of hope. Tell me there’s hope, Amy."

  "I... I don’t know what to say," Amy faltered, clearly flustered. "I mean, I’ve grown up a lot in the past five years, Mark."

  "It’s been that long?" he asked. "It seems like only yesterday I was gazing into your beautiful eyes."

  "Things have changed. I have changed."

  "I see." He looked down at his hands. "Then life as an eccentric old bachelor it is."

  "I mean, I’ve matured, both as a woman and as a Christian," Amy continued. "I’m not the shy, naïve little girl you knew back then. I’ve traveled the world for myself, Mark. I’ve seen things, some of them pretty horrible. And yet my faith is still strong. I’ve been able to make a difference in the lives of these people. And I can’t believe that God would want me to sacrifice all of that to satisfy my own feelings."

  Mark looked up. "You still have feelings?"

  Amy hesitated before nodding.

  Mark’s eyes filled with tears; uncharacteristic and yet fitting. He let one roll unchecked down his cheek. "I’m a believer, too, Amy. Remember? I told you that way back when I got home from the States."

  "I know. I guess I just needed to know that it was for real. Not something you said or did just to satisfy my requirements."

  "No Amy. It’s for real," Mark reassured. "I’ve been through enough to know that no matter what; whether you take me back or not, God will never leave me or forsake me."

  "Is that what you think I did? Forsake you?" she asked, choking on her own words.

  "It felt like it. But I think God had a plan. He knew you needed time to grow up, to live life on your own and to make a difference in the world. And I needed to grow up, too. Spiritually. I needed to make my faith my own, not just something my parents handed down to me."

  "But what about my career?"

  "What about it?"

  "I like what I do," Amy said defensively. "I don’t want to give that up."

  "And why should you? I mean look at us. Here we are, meeting up in Africa of all places after all these years. I’d say we both have a bit of the wanderlust in us. Surely God must have a niche somewhere for us, where we can work together."

  "Do you really think so?"

  "God works all things together for those who love Him," Mark quoted. "My favourite verse. I think He can do the same for us, Amy."

  "I’d like that.” Amy smiled.

  "Then I take it your answer is yes."

  "To what?" she replied coyly. "You haven’t asked a question yet."

  "Right. Okay, Amy Walters, for the second time - or is it the third time? Anyway, Amy will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

  "I thou
ght you’d never ask!"

  After a prolonged kiss, Amy pulled away with a giggle.

  "Now what are you laughing about?" Mark asked. "I haven’t lost my touch, have I?"

  "No, that’s not it. I was just thinking how worried I was that I was destined to be an old maid missionary."

  "You’re kidding, right?"

  "No. I guess you weren’t the only one who had resigned himself to life as a single. I mean, I kept telling myself that I was still young, that someday someone else would come along and sweep me off my feet. That I was too young when I fell for you and it was probably just a crush. But deep down I knew. There would never be anyone for me besides Dr. Mark Graham."

  "Now that is music to my ears.” Mark laughed. "If Jack were here right now, he’d be playing a celebration tune on his saxophone."

  "Maybe he is here," Amy mused. "Looking down on us from heaven with his own four thousand piece jazz band."

  Mark nodded. "Yeah. And somehow, I think he approves."

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  Author Bio

  Tracy Krauss writes contemporary Christian romance with a twist of suspense and a touch of humour. Her books strike a chord with those looking for a hard hitting yet thought provoking read – no sugar added. Her work has won multiple awards and has been on Amazon’s bestsellers’ lists. She also writes stage plays tailored to a high school audience, and has contributed to several anthologies, devotional books, and one illustrated children’s book. Tracy has a Bachelor’s degree from the University of Saskatchewan and teaches secondary school Art, Drama and English – all things she is passionate about. She is a member of ACFW, The Word Guild, and is on the executive of Inscribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship, a Canada wide organization for writers of Christian faith. She and her husband have lived in five provinces and territories including many remote and unique places in Canada’s far north. They have four grown children and now reside in beautiful Tumbler Ridge, BC where she continues to pursue all of her creative interests.