Kaitlyn, Zach, and Macey were sitting with Brooke, and at the adjacent table, an empty seat was to the left of the carpenter, who sat across from Pastor Jim and Shirley. Carla decided to take it.
“This is fun!” Shirley said, surprisingly loud over the dim tune of Willie Nelson’s “Always on My Mind” playing on the jukebox in the bar next door.
“Hey, Pastor Jim,” Carla said, glad to see the Lindys out and having a good time. She pointed at Shirley. “Try to settle her down. We don’t want to get kicked out of here.”
Pastor Jim put his arm around Shirley and pulled her toward him. “If she gets kicked out, I may just try my luck around here with one of those other women next door.”
Shirley smacked him playfully on his arm and shook her head.
Pastor Jim shifted in Kenneth’s direction. “Just point me toward a keeper, Kenneth. Then watch me work.”
Kenneth reached across the table and tapped Pastor Jim on his arm. “I think you already have a keeper, James.”
“I guess I’ll probably hang on to her,” Pastor Jim said. “I’d be in the dark without her!”
“Not even close to your best blind joke,” Carla said.
“Forgive me,” he answered sheepishly, giving Shirley another squeeze.
Kenneth turned slightly toward Carla and spoke so low, only she could hear. “Can you forgive him?”
“It was only a joke,” Carla said, tightly gripping the metal napkin holder in front of her. She could feel its cool touch in her palms as she angled it just right to see his reflection. “He makes blind jokes all the time. And by the way, you tripped me out when I looked up and saw you sitting in church.”
“Look at me, Carla,” Kenneth said.
She slowly turned her head toward him and found herself immediately locked into his clear green eyes. Soft and understanding. She could feel her abdomen tighten as the overwhelming feelings she had the other night returned. He knows everything about me . . . and he’s not talking about me forgiving Pastor Jim for his joke.
“Can you take these for me, handsome?” Kathy asked, holding five standard bar glasses in her hands behind Kenneth.
Kenneth reached up and took the glasses without breaking eye contact with Carla. A memory flashed in her mind—her father standing in the doorway to her bedroom, smiling at her with such tender care. She remembered his last five words.
“I love you, baby girl.”
Carla abruptly stood, looking toward Kenneth, but unable to see him any longer. Only her dad. “No, I can’t forgive him,” she mumbled. “And I never will.”
MACEY WASN’T SURE WHAT TO MAKE OF THE WAY ZACH was behaving. He seemed listless, rising to stare at the historic pictures on the diner walls, as if they were the most intriguing things he’d seen all week. When he returned to the table, he was quiet, fiddling with his cheap napkin ring, making it spin. “You’re sure quiet, Zach. You feeling okay?”
“I’m all right,” he said.
“No, you’re not,” she said, leaning toward him so she could whisper. She shot a sidelong glance down the table to make sure no one else was paying attention. “Tell me, Zach. How did he fix it so fast?”
“Like the minister said, it must not have been as bad as we all thought.”
She could tell that Zach didn’t believe his own words. He was acting like a man who knew that ghosts didn’t exist, trying to explain the ghost sitting right in front of him.
“You sure?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said, giving her a drawn and tired look. Not the physically exhausted sort of tired, but that expression normally reserved for people coming out of four-hour calculus exams. She knew that he couldn’t rationalize what had happened.
“Zach,” she said, trying to get him to focus.
He tilted his head as if he hoped she had an explanation. They stared at each other and seemed to silently agree that something unusual was going on.
Zach finally looked away. “It wasn’t as bad as we thought,” he said again. “There’s no other explanation, Macey.”
“I guess you’re right,” she conceded. He was right. There really was no other explanation. But it was destroyed. It looked so bad. And, yes, ladies and gentlemen, let’s not forget about those four cans of lacquer. Surely a weather-beaten, lightning-singed, fifteen-foot cross would soak in at least one of the cans. She turned her head to find that Kenneth was staring right at her. And then he gave her a slow, knowing smile.
She quickly looked away at Alex and Charlie. Alex was standing on a chair in front of an arcade-type game at the end of the diner, methodically controlling the jaws of a tiny metal crane toward a specific prize. Charlie was looking back—staring, actually—at Kenneth. He seemed baffled—fearful?—maybe even awestruck by the carpenter. Charlie looked at Kenneth as if he were a magician who’d made an elephant disappear into thin air. Or took a completely destroyed cross—shredded, split, and burned by a lightning bolt—and made it brand new. Better than new—considering the layers of lacquer that magically covered the cross in a matter of minutes.
She turned her head back toward Kenneth, who was again looking at her like he knew what she was thinking. Nice work, Kenneth, she thought. His dad couldn’t see you fix the cross, and he can’t talk about it. Good one there, pal. Just who are you and what are you up to?
BROOKE RETURNED FROM A VISIT TO THE RESTROOM, next door in the bar. “Guess who’s here,” she whispered to Carla.
“Don’t even say it,” Carla said, now playing the crane game, trying to nab the tiny stuffed tiger that Alex had missed—and was so sad about. He and Charlie had moved on to an ancient Pac-Man machine in the corner while Carla took a shot at it.
“I never even thought about him being here on a Sunday,” Brooke said. “We should have known, with the Lions playing.”
Carla sighed, lost her concentration and the tiger too. She turned toward her friend. “Is he drinking?”
“Has been for a while, from the looks of him.” Brooke knew what Carla feared. Tim Shempner, Carla’s ex-fiancé, was pretty good at losing his temper, and when he was drinking, he was one of the best. The innocent victims of his drunken bouts of anger were normally smaller and weaker targets, with his favorite one being Carla. When they were together, Carla showed up with a black eye or sporting suspicious bruises more times than Brooke cared to remember.
“Maybe you should get out of here,” Brooke said. “Kathy wouldn’t mind if you went through the kitchen. I’ll bring you your burger.”
“Did he see you walk through?”
“I hope not,” Brooke said.
“I’m not going to let Shempner push me around anymore,” Carla said. “Remember what I said at the park?”
Brooke looked back at Pastor Jim and Shirley, and then at the other table. “That’s great, Carla, but the last thing we need today is a scene in front of everybody.”
JIM WAS TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHY ALL OLD DINERS seemed to smell the same, when he heard Shirley clear her throat.
“I’m amazed how good the cross looks, Kenneth. You certainly are gifted with tools. We never imagined it could be repaired so quickly.”
“It’s sometimes difficult to believe things,” Kenneth said, “particularly when you don’t see them with your own eyes.”
“I don’t know how we can ever repay you,” Jim said.
“Your joy and gratefulness are thanks enough,” he answered.
Jim smiled. “Where are you from, Kenneth, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“A little bit of everywhere,” Kenneth said.
Hmm, Jim thought. A wanderer. Times had been tough for many. Maybe Kenneth had had a difficult time holding a job and went wherever construction led him. Jim found himself hoping the hospital construction would keep him around for a good long while.
“It’d be nice if you could come to our harvest party on Saturday,” Shirley said. “You’d be welcome to bring a date if you wanted.”
Jim let out a little laugh. “Shi
rley, I’m sure the man has other plans for the weekend.”
“I don’t, actually. I’ll be there,” Kenneth said over the cheers of The Pilot Inn regulars next door. It sounded like Detroit kicked a field goal.
“Wonderful!” Shirley said. “That goes for you guys too!”
“What goes for us too?” He thought it was Kaitlyn speaking.
“We’re having a harvest party this Saturday at the church,” Shirley said. “Come if you don’t already have plans. Kenneth is coming.”
“Sounds like fun. I haven’t been to a church party in ages.” That was definitely Macey.
“Wonderful!” Shirley said again. There was nothing his wife liked better than a bunch of guests to look after.
“Maybe then we can have our friend tell us how he patched that cross up so fast,” Macey said. “What do you think, Kenneth?”
“Maybe I will,” Kenneth said. “I think Dr. Lewis is onto me, James.”
Jim smiled. “Sometimes the Lord works in mysterious ways. Even through us!”
“He certainly does,” Kenneth agreed.
“By the way,” Jim said, “after the young lady from the newspaper took our picture, why didn’t you give her your name? I was just curious.”
Jim felt a warm hand on his shoulder and figured it was Kenneth. “‘Take heed that you do not do your charitable deeds before men, to be seen by them. Otherwise you have no reward from your Father in heaven.’”
“Matthew 6:1,” Jim said, recognizing the verse his men’s group had just studied a couple of weeks ago. “A hard lesson for most of us.” Hadn’t he even enjoyed a flash of pride when he could identify the chapter and verse as easily as Kenneth seemed able to do? “We all like a little recognition. But good for you, for living it out.”
“I had a feeling you’d get that verse,” Kenneth said. “I’m thinking I can stump you with another though.”
“Possibly,” Jim said. He held up his hands and then pointed his index fingers at Kenneth. “But as Alex would say, bring it on.”
“‘Do not be afraid; only believe, and he will be made well.’”
“It’s Luke 8:50,” Jim said, not feeling prideful but fortunate. He’d been reading the Bible since he was about seven, and when he finally lost his sight for good, he ended up with a steel-trap memory and a braille Bible to boot. By the grace of God, he was pretty sure he’d memorized most of Scripture over the years, and even spotted something the carpenter had missed.
“If you don’t mind me correcting you,” Jim said, “the verse ends with ‘she will be made well.’ I think you may have accidentally said ‘he will be made well.’”
“Tell her,” Kenneth said. “It’s very important that you remember that. Please don’t forget to tell her.”
“Tell who?” Jim asked, sitting back, confused.
“Tell her to only believe, and he will be made well.”
“Tell who?” Jim repeated.
The carpenter remained stubbornly silent.
“A puzzle?” Jim asked, drumming his fingers on the table. “Something you want me to figure out on my own? I won’t forget the verse, it’s Luke 8:50. But who to tell?”
There was a little pause and then a warm hand took his wrist.
“Give it a day or so,” Kenneth said. “I think you’ll figure it out.”
“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU GUYS ARE GONNA BE FOR THE harvest party?” Carla asked. “We don’t have much time to figure it out.”
“Adults are dressing up too?” Kaitlyn asked. “I have no idea. After years of working with kids on the hospital ward, I have a few options. What are you going to be?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” Carla said. Most of her costumes were a little too suggestive to wear to a party at the Lindys’. She clearly remembered being here at The Pilot last Halloween . . . she just didn’t remember where she woke up on November first.
“I’m going to be Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz,” Brooke said. “Alex is gonna be the scarecrow, and Charlie is gonna be a big tin man.”
“He is perfect for that!” Macey said, sitting up straight in her chair and taking a deep breath. Next to her, Zach was reaching into a bowl of Goldfish crackers with a pained expression.
“Look at me,” Zach said. “I’m so hungry that now I’m eating this garbage.”
Alex wedged himself between Macey and Zach and was staring at Zach. “Hey, mister,” he said in his small voice while tugging on Zach’s sleeve.
“Hey there, sport,” Zach said.
Alex pointed at the small bowl of Goldfish crackers. “Why are you eating those?”
“It’s a little snack before the food comes,” Zach answered. “Want some?”
“No way,” Alex said, pointing back at the half-filled bowl of tiny golden crackers. “Mom says there is pee on those goldfishies. People don’t always wash their hands after going to the bathroom, and then they get pee on those.”
Carla hid a smile.
“Alexander!” Brooke said.
“But you said that there—”
“Enough, Alexander! I’m sorry, Zach.”
Zach choked down the ball of half-chewed pulp in his mouth. “It’s all right,” he said, picking up his glass of water. He studied the cleanliness of the glass and then took a drink.
Alex looked wide-eyed at Zach. “It’s pretty gross, isn’t it?”
Zach nodded his head in agreement and set his glass back down.
“Sorry about the wait, everybody!” Kathy said loudly, placing a huge tray of Pilot Burgers on the crease that brought the two tables together.
“Where is mine, Kaffy?” Alex asked.
Kathy put a plate of chicken strips in front of Alex to his delight. “And these are for you, Alex.”
“No sauce for me,” Alex said, lifting his hand to the stocky waitress the way a little Roman emperor would address his subjects.
“You can keep my sauce too,” Macey said.
“Shall we join hands real quick before we eat?” Pastor Jim asked.
The nine joined hands all the way around both tables and Pastor Jim began the prayer.
“Lord, thank you for bringing us together today, and thank you for the additional blessing of new friends, and for showing us that regardless of what obstacles we face, we can come together and—”
“Well, if it isn’t The Pilot bimbo!” someone called. The other customers in the diner immediately fell silent. Everyone in their party looked up to the swinging door as a drunk man weaved his way toward them. “Here I was thinking it was just your sweet little friend I saw, but no! You’re in here hiding too!”
“Who the heck is that?” Zach whispered.
At the sound of Tim Shempner’s voice, Carla felt like she’d just stepped out into the snow, barefoot.
Even most of the bar seemed to fall silent on the other side of the doors, with the exception of the televisions. Carla reluctantly looked up to see her ex, clearly drunk and walking aggressively toward their table. He wore a plaid shirt over a gray T-shirt, hanging over dirty jeans. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in three days, and his grease-stained fingers were resting across his beer gut.
How did I ever think he was cute? Horror flooded her chest at the thought of what was about to come down. Why didn’t I go when Brooke suggested it? But I’m done, right? Done with putting up with stuff like this?
Even though you couldn’t smoke in the bar, a half-finished Newport hung out of his mouth, and when he arrived at the table, an inch of dirty gray ash broke off and fluttered down to the floor.
Carla stood, determined to hold her ground. “Not today, Tim. Go back, now. Back to the bar and leave us be.”
“Only if you come with me,” Shempner crooned. “Or are you gunning for one of these poor fools to buy you a rum and Coke so you’ll go home with them?”
“Please, Tim,” Carla said, turning in embarrassment to Pastor Jim and Kenneth, now standing.
Shempner dropped a heavy hand on Charlie’s shoulder and then glared at B
rooke. “Oh, lookie here, everybody. They brought the big retard with them today! The preacher’s boy!”
Charlie reached in his pocket to seek the refuge of his Tic Tacs. He pulled them out and offered one to Shempner, who mindlessly slapped the container out of Charlie’s hand, scattering little white pieces of candy across the table and floor.
Charlie stood to retrieve the small plastic container, and Shempner grabbed his arm and squeezed it. “You stay put, boy! I didn’t say you could leave! Sit down!” Charlie froze.
Shempner laughed then, so hard tears streamed from his eyes.
The rest of them remained silent. Pastor Jim took a step toward him. “Why are you doing this, Tim?”
“Shut up, fool.” All trace of humor abruptly left his face. He looked savage, mean. A shiver ran down Carla’s back. She recognized that face.
Kenneth calmly crossed his arms, drawing her attention. Do something, she thought. Please, do something.
Charlie turned cautiously toward the safety of Pastor Jim and Shirley. He smiled gratefully at the mere sight of their faces.
“Hey, retard!” Shempner screamed. “Are you deaf too, boy? I said, sit down!”
“Please, Tim,” Carla pleaded. “Let’s go outside and talk things over. C’mon . . .”
But Charlie spotted the tiny plastic top of his Tic Tac container on the floor directly behind Shempner. Excited by his discovery, he jerked forward, but before he could reach it, Shempner slapped him firmly across his left cheek.
Charlie stood straight up and covered his face with both hands.
“No!” Alex screamed.
“He was coming after me!” Shempner cried. “I’ve got witnesses!”
Brooke stood. “No more, Tim!”
Shempner stepped closer to Charlie and lifted his hand, causing Charlie to flinch. Shempner then let out a crazy laugh and lowered his hand. “Turn the other cheek, preacher’s boy!”
Pastor Jim started to step forward, but Kenneth grabbed him by the arm, bringing him to a stop.
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