Jim watched Ian pull Brooke closer, wrap his arm around her, and put his chin on top of her head. Then he whispered in her ear. It still didn’t look like Brooke said anything; she just leaned forward, and Ian helped her to her feet. They seemed stiff and sore from the weeks of bedside vigil, but Jim knew that pain would soon go away, leaving only their sore hearts. They walked like an old couple up the two steps, and Ian held Brooke, guiding her as they slowly angled to the right side of the huddle to kneel next to Shirley.
Jim left the pulpit. He went up behind the others and took a knee, purposefully wedging himself between Shirley and Brooke. Brooke’s arms were at her sides, and she was staring at the carpet. She slowly turned her head and glanced up at him, and it pained Jim to see that her eyes no longer held the certainty, the unwavering confidence in him, that she’d long shared with him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He knew it wasn’t enough, but it was all he could say. He wanted more than ever for her to say something back.
Brooke just stared at him for a few seconds. Her mouth barely opened, and Jim knew she was about to say something. She turned her head all the way toward him and then suddenly stopped and leaned back to look past him.
Jim looked over his shoulder, and Kaitlyn was patting at the sides of her face.
Zach lowered his hand and put it on her back. “You okay?”
Kaitlyn slid her hands across the back of her neck. She shook her head and loudly said, “I can feel it. I can feel that buzz. I can feel him.”
“Who?” Zach asked.
“He’s here,” Kaitlyn said.
“Who is here?”
“Him,” she answered. The nurse stood and turned around, looking toward the back of the chapel.
Kenneth was standing near the back door.
They all stood and turned to face him.
Jim noticed that the snow that had fallen on the shoulders and arms of the carpenter’s coat still hadn’t melted. His hair was matted and wet, and he ran his fingers through it, moving it straight back off his forehead. He just stood there, and it became clear to Jim that Kenneth was staring at Brooke.
Kenneth finally slid his hands into his coat pockets, and as he slowly walked up the aisle, droplets of melting slush slid off the top edges of his tattered work boots, leaving a trail of water spots on the carpet behind him.
He stopped between the first and second pews, never taking his eyes off of Brooke. It was utterly silent as the two stared at each other. Brooke finally broke her silence.
“I believed.”
Kenneth didn’t flinch.
“Did you hear me?” she said, loud enough for a tiny echo. “I believed.”
Kenneth didn’t move.
“You told Pastor Jim that if I only believed, Alex would be made well.”
Kenneth took his hands out of his pockets and walked to the base of the first step, directly before her.
Jim suddenly thought about Alex. He wondered if his body was still lying up in the hospital room, or if his body had been taken to the morgue. “Alex is with God, Brooke. Kenneth was right. He has been made well.”
She ignored him, focusing only on Kenneth. “What am I going to do without Alex?” Brooke asked, tears filling her eyes. She stepped out from under Ian’s arm toward the carpenter and crossed her arms. “What am I supposed to do now?”
“Continue on,” Jim said.
Kenneth looked up at Carla, Shirley, the doctors, and then Kaitlyn. Zach nodded at Kenneth, but Kenneth just turned his head back to Brooke once again.
Brooke threw her arms up and let them drop. She lifted one back up and pointed at the carpenter. “I thought you knew God, you know that? There are people in this room who actually thought you were something bigger than just a carpenter. They, we, thought you had a direct line to God! But I guess not. In the end, it turns out you’re just a carpenter.”
They all seemed to wait for Kenneth to say something. He didn’t.
“It’s my fault,” Jim said. “I misunderstood what Kenneth said. He was right. I was wrong.”
“Thank you, James,” the carpenter said calmly. “Thank you.”
Jim held his hands up. He had no idea what the carpenter was talking about. “Thank you for what?”
“You tell them what to do,” Kenneth said. “They rarely do it, but you certainly tell them, and you always have. I thank you for that.”
“And you,” he added softly, nodding at Brooke. “I thank you too. You were told to only believe.”
“But I was also told he’d be made well. What about that?”
“James,” Kenneth said, pointing at the pulpit. “You didn’t read it.” “Read what?”
Kenneth’s head didn’t move. His eyes looked away from Brooke to Jim. “Verse 7:14.”
“No, my friend,” Jim said, lifting his hands again. “The verse was 8:50 that told her to only believe. It was 7:14 when I could see. You somehow knew that.”
“Why are you doing this?” Ian growled, clearly fed up and taking a step toward the carpenter. “What’s your point, man? Our son just died.”
“Right there,” Kenneth said in an even voice, pointing to a Bible on the top of the pulpit. “It’s right there. I was hoping you would read it for us, James.”
“Please stop,” Brooke whispered.
“Why are you doing this?” Ian asked, taking another step.
Brooke put her hands back over her face and started crying again, and it seemed to make Ian even angrier.
Kenneth reached over and gently started to pull Brooke’s hands from her face, and Ian laid hold of the carpenter’s wrist, looking like he was about to punch him.
“It’s all right, Ian,” Kenneth said, placing his other hand on top of Ian’s.
Ian squinted and looked bewildered. His hand fell limply to his side, his mouth dropping open.
Kenneth nodded at Ian and then lowered Brooke’s hands. “You were told to believe, Brooke.”
“I already told you,” Brooke cried, her hands in his. “I really did believe, and now Alex is gone.”
“Yes, you did,” Kenneth said. The smallest hint of a smile creased his lips. “Your belief was real. It was beautiful. It was without the slightest reservation.”
“But it didn’t do him any—”
“You believed Alex would be made well as if he already was— as if it was a given. You did your part, Brooke.”
Brooke cried harder.
“James,” Kenneth said, still looking at Brooke. “The verse was 8:50.”
“I know,” Jim said. He wasn’t sure why the carpenter was finally agreeing with him.
“But that is only part of the reason why I am here,” Kenneth said. His eyes shifted back to Jim, and he held up his hand. “Verse 7:14 is also from the book of Luke.”
Jim cast a confused glance at the others on the landing. “But Luke 7:14 doesn’t have anything to do with someone getting their sight back. I know the verse, Kenneth.”
“I know you do, James.”
Jim thought about the verse, and the back of his neck suddenly warmed. “But, Kenneth, Luke 7:14 is where—”
“I do my part,” the carpenter said, locking eyes again with Brooke.
“Will you please stop?” Brooke said. “Haven’t we gone through enough? You’re making it worse . . .” She broke off into crying.
Jim stepped back to the pulpit. “Kenneth, I don’t think you really understand what that verse actually says. That is where—”
“Please read it,” Kenneth said.
Jim opened the Bible and thumbed quickly to the verse.
“From the book of Luke,” he said, looking almost obediently at Kenneth, “chapter 7, verse 14.” Jim looked over at Shirley and then down at the Bible and began to read.
“Then he went up and touched the coffin . . . and those carrying it stood still. He said, ‘Young man, I say to you, get up!’”
Jim stopped and looked at the carpenter, and Kenneth nodded and then repeated part of the verse
.
“Young man, I say to you, get up.”
“Stop it!” Brooke cried.
“Let him be,” Ian said, his eyes glued to the carpenter.
Kenneth kept his eyes on Brooke. “Please keep reading, James. The next verse.”
Jim battled for air. He gripped the sides of the pulpit and read on:
“The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to his mother.”
Jim lifted his head again, his heart thundering in his chest.
“One more verse, James,” Kenneth said calmly.
“Please,” Brooke cried. “Please, please stop. I can’t . . . I can’t keep listening to this.”
Kenneth pointed at the Bible. “Read it, James. Keep going.”
Brooke covered her face with her hands, and Jim continued to read:
“They were all filled with awe and praised God. ‘A great prophet has appeared among us, they said.’”
“Leave!” Brooke screamed, hysterical now. “Just leave!”
“Keep going, James!” the carpenter said, the urgency in his voice rising. “Please finish the verse!”
Jim’s eyes scanned what followed. The words seemed to jump off the page. His stomach tightened, and then he cautiously glanced up from the Bible toward Brooke and the carpenter. He couldn’t look. He tried again, but he just couldn’t look at Kenneth.
Good Lord.
Jim turned toward Carla and then looked at the two doctors. Next to them, Kaitlyn was rubbing at the back of her neck again, and Jim couldn’t stop himself from doing the same thing. Jim picked the Bible up and walked directly behind Brooke with his head down. He tried again and failed to look at Kenneth. The verse was perfect. Now it all made sense.
“Pastor Jim? Please, Pastor Jim,” Brooke cried. “Make him go. Why aren’t you making him go? What’s he doing here?”
“Answer her question, James,” Kenneth said. “Answer it. Read the answer.”
Jim didn’t have to read it. He already knew it, but he opened the Bible back up and read it anyhow.
“God has come to help his people.”
They all looked at one another and the room became quiet, except for Brooke’s sobs.
She finally broke the silence. “God is not here,” she said, shaking her head. “If he were here, he—”
Jim covered her mouth with his hand and then slowly took it away.
Kenneth stared up at Charlie for a good ten seconds and then slowly lowered his head.
The room had gone quiet again. Even Brooke quieted. It was as if they all held their breath, none of them clear on how this could possibly turn out.
Except for Jim. Jim could see it.
One tear trickled down the center of the carpenter’s left cheek. It worked its way down to his jaw and then fell to the front of his coat.
Kenneth looked up at Jim and spoke slowly. “James, I want you to tell them that everything happens for a reason. And you tell them that even in those times when it seems like God isn’t listening . . . that they need to give up control . . . and they just need to know that they don’t have to know why God does things . . . or why he allows things to happen . . . and that they should just continue to do as you have. Tell the people that God is trustworthy. Tell them that every single thing he does is for only one reason . . . and that is the reason.”
Jim waited, absorbing the carpenter’s words. He looked at the others, then back to Kenneth. “What is the reason?”
Kenneth turned his face up to the ceiling, hands outstretched. And then he began to cry. After a long minute, he looked straight back at Brooke, who continued to cry with him.
Zach stepped around Kaitlyn, as if to console Kenneth, but the carpenter lifted his arm for the doctor to be still. Kenneth stepped up closer to the altar. He then turned around and lifted his arm and pointed it right at Brooke.
“What?” Brooke pleaded. “What are you doing?”
Kenneth continued to hold his arm out straight at her. They all waited.
“What?” Brooke repeated.
Kenneth pulled his hand back and wiped another tear off his cheek. He studied it for a second and then lifted his arm up and pointed right back at her. He nodded at Brooke, and then he slowly swung his arm back to the chapel entrance. They all turned and looked.
Alex was standing there.
Brooke collapsed and Charlie caught her. Ian froze. Carla hugged Shirley as Kaitlyn and Macey clung to Zach. Jim could feel a tiny pool of sweat growing in his palm, affecting his grip on the Bible.
He has come to help his people.
Jim dropped to his knees, as Shirley had done.
Alex had his arms wrapped around himself as if he were cold, and he was looking down at the floor. He was still wearing his Spider-Man underwear. The port that had been in his chest was gone. His hair was back. He rubbed at his eyes with tiny fists and then dropped his arms to his sides, exposing the thin ribs of his small chest.
Charlie helped Brooke regain her feet.
Jim held his hands up toward the ceiling. “Praise God,” he whispered. Then he said it over and over, getting louder each time, shaking his head in utter wonder.
On shaking legs, Brooke moved to the center aisle and kneeled, holding her hands out. “Bu-Buddy?”
Alex’s head shifted from the floor to his mother’s voice, and he grinned at her as if he’d not known she was there. But then his eyes shifted to the man behind her. He ran in a full sprint up the center aisle and right past her to leap into Kenneth’s arms.
The carpenter picked him up, hugging him close. Jim watched the carpenter smile at Brooke as Ian helped her rise. And then he smiled again, this time at Macey, who had her hand over her mouth. Kenneth held the back of Alex’s head, kissed it, and then put him back on his feet.
Alex wouldn’t leave him. He lifted his arms until the carpenter laughed and picked him back up. Alex clung to him, burying his face in his neck.
Tears raced down Brooke’s face as she held out her arms. “Please,” she whispered. “Please.”
Kenneth ran his hand through Alex’s thick red hair, kissed him again, and walked over to Brooke. He handed the boy to his mother, who held him tighter than he’d ever been held before.
Charlie wrapped his enormous arms around Brooke and Alex as everybody else quickly huddled by.
Nobody said a word as Kenneth stepped off the platform. The room had gone quiet yet again, and they all just watched in silence as he walked purposefully down the aisle toward the chapel entrance.
“Thank you,” Jim said.
The carpenter stopped a few feet short of the door. He didn’t move.
“What is the reason?” Jim asked, bowing his head.
Kenneth waited for a few seconds. And then he turned around.
“Look at me, James.”
Jim looked at Kenneth. “Can you tell us the reason why God does everything he does?”
Kenneth held up his fists and then slowly fanned his arms out to his sides. “You know the reason, James Lindy.”
“I know,” Jim said. “But I was hoping everyone could hear it from you.”
The carpenter nodded and then uncoiled his fists, exposing his palms.
“The reason is God loves you.”
FIFTY-THREE
You’re gonna need a bigger boat,” Zach said, talking to Pastor Jim and passing a clear Tupperware bowl filled with pretzels to Ian on the other side of the couch in the Lindy living room. Ian grabbed a handful and then dropped them into his other palm.
“What’s that?” Pastor Jim asked, looking puzzled. “A bigger boat?”
“It’s from Jaws,” Ian said. “The boat they were using wasn’t big enough to get the job done. You don’t remember that?”
Pastor Jim threw his hands up in the air in surrender and then dropped them to his lap. “You know what? I’ve never seen Jaws.”
Zach shifted to the edge of the couch and grinned. “What I’m trying to say is that we’re going to need a bigger church.”
“I’m hoping you’re right,” Pastor Jim said. “But we are the church, Zach. Our message is not confined to any four walls. God wants his message to spread. He wants everyone to hear.”
“Believe me,” Zach said, “they’re hearing about it already. All of the chatter about Alex around the hospital isn’t going to stop there. People want to know more. Lots more.”
“Praise God,” Pastor Jim said.
Shirley popped her head in the living room. “We’re going to sing to the birthday boy now.”
“Okay, honey,” Pastor Jim said. The three of them stood and went into the kitchen.
Macey was sitting next to Kaitlyn and Shirley on one side of the table. Opposite them were Charlie and Alex, and they were all wearing cone birthday hats with the number 6 on them. Zach sat down and had to smile when he looked again across the table. It was obvious that the rubber band attached to Charlie’s hat didn’t even come close to reaching under his chin, so he had tried to put it on a different way. The hat was on his forehead, pointing straight out, the band around his ears, making Charlie both the tallest and only unicorn in the room.
“Look at Alex,” Kaitlyn whispered, leaning her head on Zach’s shoulder.
He kissed her cheek and whispered back, “Look at Brooke.”
Brooke’s face was one of pure joy as she carried the birthday cake from the counter and set it in front of Alex. She took out a lighter, lit the candles, and then stepped back.
Charlie wiggled in his seat in growing anticipation, waiting for them to sing and for Alex to make his wish. There was no doubt that he wanted a piece of that cake and then to help Alex open presents.
Alex closed his eyes for no longer than three seconds, cocked his head back, and then tilted forward, blowing as hard as he could across the candles that formed a small circle at the center of the chocolate cake. All six of the tiny flames leaned away and then slowly recoiled back toward him before they went out. He straightened his back, lifted his chin, and threw his arms up in victory as little trails of smoke headed toward the ceiling. “Look, Charlie! I got ’em all the first time!”
“Good job, buddy!” Brooke said as everyone surrounding the kitchen table applauded—with the exception of Charlie, who’d gotten distracted by the smoke from the candles.
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