A Season of Dreams

by Gilbert, Morris

  “It has been pretty miserable on the set having to look over his shoulder because I couldn’t meet his eyes. All right, I’ll go.”

  It went easier than Jerry thought. As soon as Brent had come to pick up Bonnie, Jerry went up and said, “I made a fool of myself the other night, Brent. Forget it, will you?”

  Peters smiled at once and put out his hand, “Sure, it’s all forgotten. Did Bonnie tell you I’m going to church with her tonight?”

  “Yes, I’d like to go along, if you don’t mind, and if I won’t be in the way.”

  “Sure, come on. You’ve heard your uncle preach before, haven’t you?”

  “Oh, sure, he’s the best there is. I’m not a Christian myself—but if I ever become one, Owen’s the brand I’d like to be.”

  The three got in Brent’s convertible and drove to the church in downtown Los Angeles. It was a very large church, seating at least two thousand people, and it was filled to overflowing when they got there. Brent was nervous. He was recognized, of course, and people whispered as they moved in to take their seats. “I can just see the fan magazines,” he whispered to the pair with him. “Brent Peters Hits the Sawdust Trail.”

  Bonnie patted his arm. “Don’t worry, you’ve had worse things than that said about you.”

  Peters laughed suddenly and said, “You’re right, I have.”

  They found seats, and the song service began almost immediately. Jerry knew all the songs and sang along. Bonnie had a beautifully tuned contralto voice and once Brent said, “If you ever want to go into the movies, you’ve got the voice for it.”

  They sang, “Are You Washed in the Blood?” “The Old Rugged Cross,” and other familiar favorites. Finally, the worship service was over and Owen got up to preach. He carried a Bible in his left hand and turned the pages expertly with the hook.

  He did not acknowledge the fact that his relatives and the famous Brent Peters were in the congregation. “He never does that,” Bonnie said. “Sometimes he’ll introduce an insignificant missionary that no one’s ever heard of, but never the famous people who come.”

  “I like that,” Peters said instantly. He looked at the strong figure of the evangelist and said, “I read he got a Medal of Honor in the Great War.”

  “Yes, but he never mentions that, either. Matter of fact, he gets embarrassed about it,” Jerry whispered back.

  Owen preached, and it was a simple sermon. “You must be born again,” he said. The third chapter of John was his text. Over and over again he stressed the fact that there was no hope for people in their own efforts. “Forget about your church membership,” he said, staring out at the congregation. “I was a church member for years and as lost as Judas. Being in a church doesn’t make you a Christian any more than being in a garage makes you an automobile.” He quoted Scripture constantly, from the Old Testament and the New. Over and over again, he would call out, “The blood of Jesus is the only hope any of us ever has. ‘His blood can make the foulest clean,’ as the old song says.”

  Finally, the sermon was over and Owen pleaded, “Now, that’s the gospel. We’re all lost, but Jesus was sent by God to make us right. Once we’ve turned to him, our hearts are one with God again. All that God asks you to do is to turn from your sin—and that’s a lot!—every sin. He wants to free you from the bondage of it. Whether it be alcohol, sex, or the lust for money, whatever your chains are that you haven’t been able to break, the Son of God is able to snap them. Will you look to Jesus now and ask him, the same way you’d ask your father for help? Get up out of your seats and come down. I want to pray with you.”

  While the heads of the congregation were bowed, Bonnie stole a glance at the two men beside her. On her left, Brent had his head bowed but appeared unmoved. He was cynical in things of religion and the sermon had been interesting—but she could tell he was not moved. However, when she glanced at Jerry, she saw that his features were set and his mouth was a tight line. The muscles in his jaw moved slightly. She saw that the songbook he held, he clutched so firmly that his knuckles were white and he was not seeing the words on the page at all.

  Instantly, Bonnie began praying for him, that God would save him from his sins.

  But the invitation ended and she saw that Jerry was still tense. “Let’s go up and see Owen,” she said.

  “You two go,” Jerry said. “I’ll wait for you out in the car.”

  Bonnie was disappointed, but she led the actor down to the front where he shook Owen’s left hand firmly. “Glad to see you, Mr. Peters,” Owen said. “I’ve enjoyed your action movies very much.”

  Peters was taken off guard. “I didn’t know ministers of the gospel went to movies.”

  “Well, I stay away from some of them, but yours are exciting and fairly free of some of the things I object to.”

  Peters laughed. “I enjoyed the message. I’m not a man of God myself but I admire your stand, Reverend.”

  Jerry said very little on the way home, except, “Drop me off at my room, if you will. Cara and I have some early flying to do.”

  “Glad you could go with us,” Peters said as he stopped the car and Jerry got out. “I’ll see you tomorrow. You’re doing a great job with the flying, Jerry. Making me look real good.” He laughed and said, “I couldn’t get up in one of those things if my life depended on it.”

  “Just my job,” Jerry said. “Good night. Good night, Bonnie.”

  As Peters pulled off, he said, “Jerry was pretty quiet. What’s wrong with him?”

  “I think he’s running from God,” Bonnie said. “He has been for a long time.”

  “Running from God? I didn’t know God was after us.”

  “Oh, yes. God’s always after us. He wants us to be his own, not our own.”

  Peters digested that in silence. He said no more until finally, when he let her out, he said, “You’re a unique young woman, Bonnie. I wish I’d known somebody like you when I was younger. It might have saved me a lot of trouble and heartache.”

  He drove off and Bonnie went inside the house. She talked for a few moments with Lylah and Jesse, saying finally, “The sermon touched Jerry tonight, I could tell. We’ll all have to pray for him.”

  If the sermon affected Jerry, he showed it little in the days that followed. The schedule was tight, and every day for the next week he flew with Cara. Cara noticed his silence and teased him about it. “I hear you went to hear the preacher. Are you gonna hit the glory trail, Jerry?”

  Instantly, Jerry said, “Don’t make fun, Cara.” His tone was sharp as he said, “I’ve seen enough of the real thing in my folks, in Owen, and in Bonnie to know that it’s real. You know it is.”

  Somehow this offended Cara. “I guess you’re telling me I’m just a no-good tramp,” she said sharply.

  Her own life had been bad almost from the beginning, and she took his attitude as a personal rebuke. It drove her to excesses, so that every night she was out drinking. There was no lack of companionship, for men sought her company constantly. Brent said once to Jerry before they went up, “I’m not seeing Cara anymore, but she’s stepping pretty high.” Hesitating, he said, “She’s drinking a lot, too, and I wish she wouldn’t. Can’t you talk to her?”

  “I’m the last one she’d listen to,” Jerry said.

  It was at the end of a hard day’s flying that Gavin said, “Let’s do one more shot. There’s plenty of light.”

  “Can’t we do it tomorrow?” Cara said. “I’m pretty tired.”

  Gavin shook his head. “Bad weather may be here tomorrow. If we can do this one sequence, we will be mostly through with the hard stuff. The rest of it you wouldn’t even have to do, Cara.”

  “All right, let’s get it over with then.”

  It was a trick they had done often with the air circus. Jerry would fly over a racing convertible. Cara would stand in the rear seat, reach up, and grab a special harness suspended from the wheels. She would fasten herself in and then the plane would rise. The difficulty was in getting from the
undercarriage up into the cockpit. Gavin had arranged special safety devices by which she could crawl from the wheels up the side of the fuselage. It was relatively safe.

  As they were getting ready for the stunt, Jerry walked over to Cara, who was wearing a long blue evening dress and a blonde wig as she doubled for Eileen.

  Jerry saw that Cara’s hands were trembling and that there were circles under her eyes. “Cara, you’re in no shape for this. Let’s put it off till tomorrow or the next day.”

  Cara looked up at him defiantly. “No, we’ll do it right now.” She squeezed her hands together and for a moment looked troubled. “All the fun’s gone out of it, Jerry—between you and me. I’ll be leaving as soon as we get through with these shots.”

  Jerry was not terribly surprised. Cara was not steady and he knew sooner or later she would leave. “Where are you going?” he asked quietly.

  “Paul Yonkers wants me to do a transoceanic flight. I’m going to New York to talk about it as soon as we’re through.”

  Jerry bowed his head. He felt a great loss and sadness. “I’ll miss you, Cara,” he said very quietly.

  Cara looked up quickly. She took one look at his face, reached out, and put her hand on his cheek. “I’m no good for you, Jerry,” she said. “I’m no good for anybody really, but especially not for you. Put me out of your mind. It’s all over.” She turned quickly and went over to the convertible and got in without another look. Jerry walked over to the plane, received his instructions from Gavin, and nodded.

  They had practiced the stunt many times, and Jerry waited for Gavin’s signal. The plane was only a few hundred feet in the air at the north end of the field. Jerry saw Gavin wave and, at the same time, the convertible started down the runway, which had been blocked off. Jerry brought the plane in low and positioned it right in front of the racing automobile. The difficult part was that he could not see the actual stunt. By leaning over, he could see the side of the convertible, but he could not see Cara.

  It had to be done expertly and quickly, for the runway determined the length of the timing.

  He leaned over to his left and brought the plane over the car. The car was bright red, and he lowered the plane until it seemed he could almost reach out and touch it. On the left side of the car was a flag that was furled. When Cara had firmly grasped the harness on the undercarriage, the driver would punch the switch that threw the flag out. This was Jerry’s signal that she had made the shift and it was time to lift the plane.

  Jerry’s nerves tingled as he held the plane steady over the racing convertible. Abruptly the flag pumped out and at once his hand moved back on the joystick very gently. The plane began to rise. Jerry’s touch was deft on the stick. The ground fell slowly away. He made no sudden moves, for he remembered clearly the closeness of death when they had done the wing-walking stunt.

  Suddenly, when he was forty feet off the ground, something changed. It was a very minor thing, but his hand on the stick was extremely sensitive. The plane seemed to lift a tiny fragment and there was a change in the behavior. Instantly Jerry’s hand froze and he almost stopped breathing, waiting for Cara to appear. It took her only fifteen or twenty seconds, as a rule, to climb from the undercarriage, and he watched in agonizing silence and tension, waiting for the blonde wig to appear.

  It did not. He twisted his head around and there, on the runway, lay a crumpled figure, the blue dress jumping out at him. He threw the plane into a screaming turn and saw a car racing down the runway. Gavin was at the wheel.

  “Oh, no! She fell!” The words seemed to echo in his head and he brought the plane in for a landing, the worst he had ever made. It bounced, almost flipping over. Finally, he got it stopped and leaped out of the plane without even turning the engine off. By the time he got to Cara he could only guess, “How is she?”

  Gavin looked up. He was holding her head. Cara’s face was devoid of all color. She was totally limp, and blood streaked down the right side of her face from above her ear, where her scalp seemed to be crushed. Gavin shook his head. “It’s bad,” he whispered.

  The two men stared at one another. They knew the dangers of their profession, but this struck them both harder than anything had.

  “She’s got to live, she’s just got to!” Jerry whispered.

  Cara Gilmore lay in a coma in an emergency room. Jerry, Gavin, and Jesse sat in the hall in stiff-backed chairs. Lylah had accompanied them to the hospital but had gone home to be with Adam. When Jerry was permitted in to see Cara, he would sit beside her still body. Doctors and nurses came and went and he was not aware of them. His eyes were fixed on the still face, the head swathed in bandages.

  The doctors talked to Jerry, Gavin, and Jesse from time to time but offered no hope. All Jerry could do was gasp, “She’s got to live! She’s got to!”

  “These things are out of our hands; they’re in God’s hands at this point,” Gavin said quietly.

  Bonnie came often and sat beside Jerry. He held her hand until it hurt her, unaware of what he was doing. She said nothing, but spent all of her time praying silently.

  It was almost dawn when a doctor informed them Cara was conscious, but that there was no hope. Jerry and Bonnie went into the room to see her. Jerry moved over to the bed, saying softly, “Cara! Can you hear me?”

  Cara’s eyes opened. They were dim and dull but her lips formed the words, “Yes . . . Jerry.”

  Bonnie came quickly to the other side and took her hand. Jerry was trying to speak but could not. “She can’t live very long. She’s dying now,” Bonnie said. Quickly she began to say, “Cara, you’re not going to live. I want to tell you about Jesus. You’ve heard before but soon you’ll be meeting him face-to-face. It’s not too late.” She witnessed to the girl quietly and Cara listened. Her lips moved from time to time when Bonnie would ask her a question and finally, when Bonnie said, “Cara, it’s so simple. Just say, ‘God, I’ve sinned against you. Save me for Jesus’ sake.’ If you’ll do that, you’ll be right with God.”

  Cara’s lips moved and she whispered something. Bonnie prayed fervently for the woman, and finally Cara said, “Jesus,” plainly and clearly.

  Jerry was weeping and could not stop the tears that ran down his cheeks. He held Cara’s left hand tightly, unable to speak. He listened as Bonnie spoke of the love of God and Cara’s need for Jesus Christ. His mind was stunned. It was as if he had been shot and paralyzed. He could do nothing but stand bent over the dying woman, his tears running down his cheeks.

  “Cara, are you trusting in Jesus? Just say that much to us. It would mean so much to Jerry and me.”

  Cara licked her lips and looked up at Bonnie. She turned her eyes toward Jerry and a smile came to her. “Jerry,” she whispered.

  “Yes, yes, Cara, I’m here.”

  “Jerry, I always loved you,” she said. Then her head turned and she looked at Bonnie and nodded. “Jesus, I believe,” she whispered.

  They stood over her, and for the next fifteen minutes, she was in and out of consciousness. When she finally left, it was almost unnoticeable. She had whispered once the name of a woman that neither of them recognized, and then she had smiled slightly. But the last thing she said was, “Jesus.” Then her chest fell and she lay in that ultimate eloquent silence that death brings.

  Bonnie put the still hand on the quiet breast, then reached over and put her hand over Jerry’s hand. “Jerry, I think she called on God. You’ve got to hold on to that.”

  But Jerry’s face was a mask of pain. He seemed not to hear her words, holding the still hand in his own until finally the doctors and nurses came and stood over him. He rose and left the room, walking blindly. Bonnie followed him. Outside in the hall she took his arm and turned him around. “Jerry, I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to remember, she did go out trusting God, believing in Jesus.”

  Jerry stared at her. He swallowed hard and his words and his voice were a hoarse whisper. “I’ve lost her,” he said. There was a doubt and a harshness in his eyes
as he turned and walked down the hall without looking back. Something in the set of his back and the way he held himself stiffly brought a stab of grief to Bonnie. She shook her head and wondered how he would take this blow. He had failed at so many things, and now this had come. She was not at all sure that Jerry Stuart would be able to weather this storm.

  A STRANGE AFTERNOON

  Maury Stuart longed for the things of beauty in life. Anyone looking for beauty in life, she thought grimly, would never choose a 1925 Model T Ford as an object! Maury had decided to take the children for a ride and a picnic. As she approached the Model T, she realized that the break was more for her sake than for Stephen and Mona—she was sick to death of the harsh reality of the shack where she had been trapped.

  “Are we really gonna have a picnic, Maury?” Mona asked anxiously, looking up with her strangely colored green eyes. Her blond hair and innocent face made the nine-year-old an enchanting child.

  “Sure we are, Mona—if I can get this car started.”

  Stephen, aged eleven, with the same tow-colored hair as his sister, nodded confidently. “You can do it, Maury. I know how, ’cause I’ve watched Pa lots of times.”

  “Well, I hope you’re right, Stephen. Get in now.” Maury got the kids settled, then put herself behind the wheel, her mouth set in a grim line and her jaw clenched in determination.

  Those who would be born in later years and would know the simplicity of modern automobiles could never understand the fear that rushed through Maury, for driving a Model T was not simple. First, the hand brake on the left side had to be pulled all the way back. The hand brake was on and the engine in neutral. To start driving, the left foot pedal was pushed halfway down at the same time the hand brake was released. At that same time, the gas pedal was pressed down and the left pedal was all the way down for low gear. Then, after gaining enough speed, that pedal was released for high gear. To stop, the left pedal was pushed halfway down to neutral and the center pedal was depressed as a foot brake. To back up, it was necessary to push the left pedal halfway down, or the hand brake halfway back, and then press the center pedal all the way down.