by Steven Hunt
“Oh, my goulash! Why can’t you just believe the Truth protects ’em?”
Teddy shrugged. He knew why but he and Ezi had already been over the seeing-is-believing concept.
Ezi continued, “If the Truth cares so much for the little creatures to give ’em food, warmth, and a place to rest their heads, don’t you think that the Truth cares more for you? After all, we were made in His image.”
“I suppose so.”
“Suppose nothin’! The Truth provides for His young-uns. You, me, and the rest of His flock.” Ezi pounded his branch-cane on the porch causing a thump to sound against the wooden floor.
Ezi sighed. “You said earlier that you couldn’t have faith in somethin’ you’ve not seen. Son, you just witnessed faith in its finest and simplest form. Little creatures cannot protect themselves against the faster coyotes or the mightier bears, so the Truth does it for ‘em. If the Truth protects the little ones of the earth, the Truth will protect and take care of us also.” He paused. “So, do you think these birds and deer have enough faith to fill a mustard seed?”
Teddy ignored Ezi’s question. He shifted to the edge of his chair, leaning toward Ezi so he could see his face. Teddy’s buttocks hurt from the hard wood of the chair and he welcomed the brief relief brought on by shifting his weight. “Let’s get to the actual point, Ezi. No more examples or talking in riddles. Explain to me what faith is.”
Teddy could just make out the glimmer in Ezi’s eyes as he spoke. “OK, I reckon you deserve a straight answer. Otherwise, how are you gonna learn?” He paused with his face toward the field as if in deep thought. A few seconds passed before Ezi’s face lifted toward the treetops. “Faith is being sure of what we hope and certain of what we cannot see.”
Teddy leaned back in his chair. The pain in his back-end soon returned, but he concentrated too much on Ezi’s answer to care. The darkness fully consumed everything around him, having turned the bright colors into shades of gray. “So, if I say my hopes lie in tomorrow that my days will soon become better and that I’m certain that this time of…um, darkness will eventually be over…that’s faith?”
“Yes, son, it is. But try goin’ deeper.” Ezi’s chair creaked as he rocked.
“Deeper?” Teddy’s wrinkled his forehead in confusion. Wasn’t the purpose of this lesson to teach him about faith so he could be healed of the depression before the deadline? If he’d grasped the concept, why the need to go deeper?
“OK, I’ll try.” He squinted at the outline of the now darkened trees like Ezi had done, seeking inspiration. Moments passed without a thought. Images of Jane and Mandy darted through his mind along with the happier times they’d shared. “I hope to one day get my family back, and I’m certain that our love will continue to grow. Love will make all our trials seem petty.”
“You still not quite there, but you’re close. Very close.”
Teddy propped his elbow on his knee and leaned his head on his hand, thinking. The last time a teacher had asked him a question and wanted a specific answer he’d been in college—a long time ago. Then he’d been able to spout off the correct response, but now the words evaded him. Nothing. “I don’t have anything.”
“Let me help.” Ezi leaned close to his ear. A strong smell of coffee wafted from the old man’s breath. “I know why you’re here. I know of your depression and what it’s cost you. I know how you’re feelin’.” He leaned back in the rocker. “What do you hope for, son? Deep down inside?”
“Well, I don’t like the way I feel, if that’s what you mean. The way this depression is controlling my thoughts, my actions, and my passions. I want my life back the way it was.”
Ezi shook his head. “No, son. What do you really hope for? Those things are just skimmin’ the surface. I want to know what makes you happy. Not the material items that filled your previous life, like your house, your car, and your job. What makes you feel like dancin’ in the streets? Or laughin’ ‘til your belly hurts? Or singin’ at the top of your lungs, not caring if you’re a bit off key? Do you see me livin’ in a big house? Do you see an expensive car parked in that driveway.” Ezi’s branch-cane whipped by Teddy’s nose in the direction of the front of the shack. “No sir. That’s cause I don’t need ‘em to make me happy. I’m happy livin’ the way I do. I ain’t got no concerns. Kinda like the birds and deer we saw. Just livin’ life and lettin’ the Truth provide for my needs.”
“Well,” Teddy began, “if it came down to the brass tacks of my hope, I’d like to live like those birds. To live without a care in the world and not have to worry about what to eat or what to wear because everything is provided. Not worry about bills or taxes or if there’s enough money to buy groceries. ”
Ezi nodded. “Yes. Good. That would be the perfect life. Much like when we were young-uns and our parents took care of us. It’s a pity those days are gone. But as we grow we put away childish things and we begin to take care of the loved ones placed in our charge.” Ezi thumped his branch-cane on the porch in front of Teddy. “Name somethin’ you’re certain exists but you cannot see.”
“Oh, wow. There are a lot of things.”
“What’s on the top of the list?” The branch-cane again struck the stoop.
Teddy glanced at Ezi, before returning his gaze in the direction of the tree line. “When I was a young boy—listening to my uncle preach—I believed in the Truth. I know I did. There was something magical or spiritual about the way my uncle looked and acted when he spoke from that pulpit. He had this glow all about him and he seemed to be a different person. I’m certain his voice became a tool for the Truth. All the troubles of the world melted away during those Sunday services. While attending his church, I, too, believed there wasn’t a problem that the Truth could not defeat. My concerns—whatever they had been for a fourteen-year-old boy—vanished.”
Teddy kept his eyes locked above the tree line as he spoke. “When I left for college, I tried to find a church to attend, but I couldn’t find one that had the same energy and feeling of my uncle’s. Eventually, I stopped trying.
“After my wife and I married, we made excuses that our lives had become too busy to attend church. When Mandy was born, we found ourselves running to soccer games, dance lessons, and school functions on Saturdays. By Sunday morning, we only wanted to catch those extra hours of sleep before we started another grueling week of meetings, conference calls, and business trips.”
He sneaked a glance toward Ezi. He thought he saw the whiteness of a smile in the moonlight. “What I’m trying to say is at the top of my list of things I believe and I’m certain exists is the Truth—even though I haven’t lived my life as I should.”
Ezi nodded his head. “I think you now understand what faith is all about. Your faith is hoping for comfort, protection, and peace while you are certain of the existence of the Truth. That, son, is the great faith.”
“So why do you think the Truth abandoned me in the darkest time of my life? I needed something—someone—to stand by my side and help me. If the Truth had been there I might not have tried to kill myself.”
Ezi shifted in his chair. “Son, the Truth never left you. You left the Truth. The Truth’s love is true. What was true love durin’ the years you attended your uncle’s church is true love today. The Truth’s love will be true twenty and fifty and seventy years from now. Ain’t nothin’ that can change that. Your life had become full of soccer games, dance recitals, family, and work. But your life was not complete. Life without the Truth is not really livin’ at all. The extra hours of sleep became more important to you than the Truth.
“The absence of recognizin’ the Truth in your life opened the door for depression to step in. The Truth was still there, just buried deep within you. It wasn’t on your lips, in your mind, or seen in your life. Once depression set its talons in you, what did you do?”
Teddy’s face flushed. He didn’t want to answer for being embarrassed. He only summoned the courage because it was too dark for Ezi to see his disg
race. “I blamed God.”
Ezi nodded. “You blamed God. But did you reconcile with Him?”
“No. I tried to kill myself.” Teddy noticed his shame had stolen the volume from his voice.
“And after you failed at that, what did you do?”
“I asked for help.”
“So why did you wait so long to ask for the Truth’s help? If you had asked at the beginnin’ signs of your depression, you would not be here. The Truth would have set you free. Do you believe that?”
Teddy nodded before realizing Ezi could not see his head moving. “I’m starting to.”
Ezi paused. “Ain’t nothin’ impossible for the Truth,” he said after moments of silence. “Even defeatin’ the debilitatin’ feelings you had. But you must believe. And you must place your faith in the Truth. Don’t err on the side of your brain by not believin’ somethin’ because you can’t see it. Listen to your heart.
“But, let me ask you another question…go one step further, if I may…what good is faith without deeds? You said yourself that you didn’t live as you should. Action nurtures faith. If another person gives you a burger when you’re hungry or a coat when you’re cold, would that gift be from man or from the Truth?”
Confidence seeped into his once-embattled soul. He felt he now understood the concept of faith. Why hadn’t someone taught him this long ago? As soon as the question entered his mind, he knew the answer—because he hadn’t given anyone the opportunity. His adult life had not included a church family.
The fog and cloak weakened, but had not quite disappeared. Figments of doubt still lived in his mind. It was a process that would take time—time he didn’t have. “Considering what we’ve discussed, I would say from the Truth. From what I remember of my uncle’s preaching, Truth is above all situations, difficulties, and oppressions. Is that right?”
“Son, now I think you’re ready to leave.”
16
Early the next morning, Teddy woke with a start. Something was different. He sniffed the air, but didn’t smell any coffee percolating or bacon frying. Absent was the sound of pots and pans banging in the kitchen. The familiar bump, shuffle, bump, shuffle of Ezi’s branch-cane no longer reverberated through the small house.
Teddy uncorked himself from the small couch, stretching as he surveyed the shanty. Everything looked to be in the same place as it had been when he’d fallen asleep. Ezi’s tools were stacked neatly near the front door along with the plastic pots. The lights were still out, except for the one over the kitchen sink that Ezi burned day and night.
He checked his watch, wondering why Ezi had allowed him to sleep past six, especially when the old man liked early starts.
Stumbling to the kitchen, Teddy saw the dishes they’d used for last night’s late supper had been washed. The coffee pot and the two cups were turned upside down, drying on a dish towel. Everything seemed in its place.
Except Ezi.
Teddy tiptoed to Ezi’s bedroom. The door was closed. If Ezi still slept, Teddy didn’t want to disturb him, but he had to know if his teacher was OK. He’d be devastated if Ezi had become ill during the night and needed help. The demand to check on his new friend outweighed the need for privacy. Teddy eased the door open.
Empty. The bed had been slept in, but no sign of Ezi.
Still in his socks, Teddy prodded to the front door, hoping that Ezi had decided to take his morning coffee on the front porch. The drying coffee pot contradicted him, challenging him to think of a better reason, but he had few places to search. He opened the door, poking his head into the chilling winter air. Ezi’s rocking chair sat empty.
Where was he?
As Teddy inspected the front yard for his friend, he spotted a familiar sight outside the fence. There Christy stood, unmoving. She wore the same white and pink dress as when he’d last seen her and her hair still looked perfect. She wasn’t wearing a coat. Bizarre since the overnight arctic blast dropped the wind chill several degrees below freezing.
Her eyes followed him as he walked to her.
“It is time to go,” she said. He caught a whiff of peaches and lilacs.
“Do you know where Ezi went?” Teddy wrapped his arms around himself; a losing battle against the freezing wind.
“Yes. He is not here.”
“Where is he?”
“It is time to go,” she repeated.
Teddy watched the pre-teen, wondering what she knew but refused to tell him. It wasn’t as if he had taken too long on his first lesson and needed to scurry away for the second. Ezi had declared success after only two days. So why the mystery? Why had Ezi vanished without saying goodbye?
“I need to speak to Ezi.”
“You cannot. He is not here.”
“I’ll wait.”
“No.”
Teddy turned and half-walked, half-ran into the small shack. He put on his shoes and grabbed his coat before returning to the front yard. Ezi would want him to go with her to finish his lessons. It was the reason he’d been sent here in the first place.
It just didn’t seem right to leave without saying goodbye.
Christy stood where he’d left her.
Teddy walked to the gate, but stopped short of passing through. Instead he turned and ran back to the house again.
“Where are you going?” Christy called from behind him.
“There’s something I have to do first,” he shouted over his shoulder as he dashed through the threshold the second time.
Teddy selected the best three of the five plastic pots, a small hand-shovel and Ezi’s baggie of mustard seeds from behind the front door. Shoving the bag of seeds into his shirt pocket to warm them, he carried the shovel and pots outside, placing them at the edge of a small, overgrown garden. Scooping shovelfuls of dirt, Teddy sifted out the weeds and rocks before dumping sterile dirt into each pot. Once the pots were filled three-fourths full, he gently removed the bag of seeds and blew into it, further warming the seeds. He plunged his finger into the dirt until his knuckles grazed the soil, forming holes. Three of the best seeds were dropped in each cavity before he smoothed the dirt over them.
Satisfied with his work, he ran to the house, returning with a quart jar filled with water. He dribbled the water into the pots, feeding them—giving them life.
After positioning the pots on the porch where they were protected from the wind but could receive needed sunlight, Teddy returned to Christy.
“OK. I’m ready.”
Christy smiled as she led him toward the woods.
****
They skirted the edge of the forest for several hours without talking. As before, Teddy followed a marching Christy between and around trees and shrubs. Also as before, Teddy soon became saturated with perspiration—even in the frigid wind—while Christy failed to show any signs of exertion.
When she finally stopped, Teddy leaned against a tree trunk, resting.
Without looking at him, Christy pointed north. “Go in that direction. Over the next hill, you will find a highway. Follow it into the next city and to Main Street. Continue east on Main Street until you find the public library. Go to the alley on the west side of the building. There you will find a large, blue, metal trash dumpster. It is the only blue dumpster in the alley. Near the dumpster you will find the woman who will teach your next lesson.”
“OK…and I suppose I’ll see you—”
“When you have completed the lesson,” she finished for him.
Teddy nodded. “Of course.”
“Wait a moment.”
Teddy turned to her.
“Ezi wanted me to give you something.” She held out her small hand. In the palm of her hand sat a gold coin the size of a half-dollar. Teddy wondered where she’d kept the coin since she carried neither a purse nor a bag of any kind. Her dress didn’t sport any pockets that he could see. Certain her hands had been empty during the hike, he slowly extended his hand, allowing her to drop the coin onto his palm. An outline of three mustard seeds was
imprinted on one side. The other side displayed one word: Faith.
“He wanted me to give this to you after we had traveled some distance.” As Christy spoke, Teddy flipped the coin over on his palm. “He is an emotional man and he did not want any teary goodbyes. He instructed for you to keep the coin to remind you of him. He promised never to forget you.”
“Thank you,” Teddy said, closing his fist around the coin.
She nodded, before pointing to the north.
Teddy slipped the coin in his pocket as he stepped in the direction of his next lesson.
17
The chiming of the doorbell rang throughout the house. Jane watched as Mandy ran to the foyer, obviously hoping for good news. She threw it open then dropped her head.
“Mom! It’s your boyfriend,” she called, leaving the door standing open as she walked away. She leaned against a wall, her face contorted and her eyes forming slits.
“How many times have I told you to not leave the door open, Mandy? You’re letting out the heat. And you know good and well, young lady, that I don’t have a boyfriend.” Jane stopped when she spotted Frank standing in the open entryway.
“I can be.” Frank said, smiling.
A surge of hot anger coursed through Jane, making her forget about the blast of frigid air coming through the open door. Her thoughts transformed to ways of doing harm to Frank’s round, puffy face. She’d never physically hurt anyone in her life but after his earlier inappropriate behavior, she couldn’t help herself. “Don’t go there, Frank. What’re you doing here?”
“Good morning, Jane. Did I call at the wrong time?”
“There aren’t any good times,” Mandy said from her spot at the side of the entryway.
“Mandy! Don’t we have enough going on without your attitude?” Jane didn’t blame Mandy for her reaction but being rude was not the way she’d been raised. Frank had been Teddy’s friend long before her daughter was born, and Mandy needed to respect her elders. Even if Frank had proven himself a jerk.