by Heather Gray
Bobby burst out laughing, and Grady chortled at her words. Eventually gaining control, Grady told her, "We stand when we sing and when we pray and when Reverend Green reads from the Bible, but other than that we usually sit."
"Not every time," Bobby said. Both Grady and Lizzie watched him in question. "You're supposed to stand when the reverend reads from the Bible at the beginning of the service. He sometimes reads from the Bible later in the service, too, but you don't stand up then. Trust me." Bobby chuckled, and Grady was glad to hear it. Indeed, he had told Bobby the same things about when to stand and sit, and the boy had taken him at his word and stood up in the middle of service when Reverend Green had referred people to another passage of scripture. "Especially if you're sitting toward the front of the church," Bobby added emphatically.
As Grady recalled, there had been a few snickers in the crowd that day. Reverend Green had handled it beautifully, though. Without batting an eye, the experienced man instructed the entire congregation to stand for the scripture.
Grady knew the Fitzgerald kids didn't have an abundance of friends at school or in town. He had been protective of Bobby when they'd begun bringing him, trying to treat the boy like an equal so he would feel comfortable staying with Grady and his grandparents rather than uncomfortable being around the adults. Lizzie was a young girl, though, and Grady wasn't sure such an approach would work as well with her.
As they pulled into the churchyard, Grady noticed a group of kids playing chase in a small grassy area between the church house and the parsonage. Kids arriving in different wagons went racing right over and join in the fun. Lizzie, however, didn't even look in the direction of the other children. Neither did Bobby. Instead, much more like a grown man than the adolescent he was, Bobby asked Lizzie, "Do you want me to show you where the necessary is?" She nodded, and the two went off.
"Those are some mighty fine young'uns," Gramps said as he came and joined Grady beside the wagon. When Grady did nothing more than nod, Gramps went on, "Sure would be nice to have a family full of kids."
Gram hit Gramps on the arm and told him to, "Shush now, old man. They're already family. Don't go pushing this boy into something he's not ready for."
"I don't think it's him that ain't ready," Gramps said. "If Mary would find her way back to God, I think this would be a done deal."
Gram harrumphed, and Grady shook his head. "Gramps, the first sermon Bobby heard was about being unequally yoked. He asked me about it because he thought it meant he couldn't live with his family if he accepted Christ since he assumed they were all unbelievers." When Gramps' bushy grey eyebrows shot up, Grady continued, "Don't worry. I explained it to him. What does it say about me, though, if I suddenly start courting someone who seems to want nothing to do with God?"
"But when Mary was a little girl…" The sentence hung between them.
Grady shook his head and said, "What Mary believes about herself is more important than anything you and I might think we know about her right now."
"Aren't you tempted to say something to her about it?" Gramps' voice sounded like gravel under the wheels of the wagon.
"I believe the day will come that she remembers, but I don't think it's supposed to come from me," Grady spoke with certainty.
Gram nodded to where Bobby and Lizzie were approaching. Then she linked her arm with her husband's and tugged him toward the steps leading into the sanctuary. Grady could see Lizzie's apprehension. "Would you like to go in?" he asked, thinking that getting in ahead of most of the people might give her a chance to look around and ask questions. Lizzie nodded, grabbing ahold of Grady's hand on one side and Bobby's on the other. Together, the three of them walked into church. Grady wasn't sure if she had done it on purpose or not, but Lizzie had positioned him so he stood, a tall fortress, between her and the makeshift playground where children continued to play.
****
When the service was over, everybody filed out through the main aisle. The reverend stood at the door and shook each person's hand, thanking them for coming. Lizzie took an inordinate amount of time straightening her dress and making sure her song book was put back into place exactly so. By the time she raised her eyes, indicating she was ready to leave, they were the only ones left in the sanctuary.
Grady allowed Gram and Lizzie to precede him. Gram shook Reverend Green's hand and thanked him for a fine message. When Lizzie got to the reverend, he bent down to make eye contact. "Hello Lizzie. Thank you for coming today."
"You're welcome," Lizzie said in her usual quiet voice.
When she didn't move on, the older man asked her, still maintaining eye contact, "Did you have any questions?" Lizzie nodded. "Would you like to ask me?"
Lizzie took her time, and Reverend Green didn't rush her. When she finally spoke, her words surprised everyone. "I want Jesus to save me, like He saved Ma, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Ma used to talk about it, but I can't remember."
Reverend Green squatted down in front of Lizzie, his bones creaking. "Well, Lizzie, that's a wonderful thing to want. I can help you with that. Is it okay if I ask you a couple of questions first?" When Lizzie nodded, he went on, "Do you know what it means to be saved?" When Lizzie again nodded without speaking, Reverend Green asked, "Can you tell me what it means?"
"One time I left my school books in the living room. Pa got real mad. He was going to hit me. Mary pushed me out of the way and got hit instead. She saved me."
Grady felt shock move through him in waves, heating his skin and tightening his muscles. Mr. Fitzgerald, dead and gone, was still finding ways to haunt his children. What got to him the most, though, was the matter-of-fact way Lizzie spoke about it, lacking any emotion in her words.
If the reverend was upset by what Lizzie revealed, he didn't show it. Instead, he smoothly continued their conversation. "That's a good way to explain it, Lizzie. Do you know why you need Jesus to save you?"
"Ma's in heaven, and I want to see her again someday. But people who do bad stuff can't go to heaven because God is holy and can't have bad stuff in his home. So Jesus came and got punished for all the bad stuff I do so I wouldn't have to get in trouble for it. That way I can go to heaven."
"My word, Lizzie. You have a wonderful understanding of what it means to be saved," the reverend said kindly. "Where did you learn all of this?"
Grady, his grandparents, and Bobby were all standing there with Lizzie, but she kept her eyes trained on the reverend, a determined glint shining in their brown depths. "I'd forgotten about heaven and about Jesus until Bobby asked if he could go to church. When I started thinking about it more, I remembered some of the things Ma used to tell us, and I started listening to other people. Mr. Grayson talks about God sometimes. So do Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes and Grady."
"That's wonderful, Lizzie. Jesus likes it when people are eager to learn more about Him." Warmth in his blue eyes, the reverend continued, "If you want Jesus to pay for the bad stuff you've done – or might do in the future – you need to pray."
"Like at mealtime?" This question came from Bobby.
"Not exactly," the reverend answered, looking to the boy. "At mealtime most people thank God for their food or the things He's done for them. When we pray for salvation, it's a little different. You need to tell God that you've done wrong and know that prevents you from being good enough to be with him in heaven. Acknowledge that Jesus took the punishment for you. Basically, tell God you want to give your life to Him."
"Is that really all there is to it?" Bobby asked.
"There's more to being a Christian than that. You have to want to try to please God each day and make choices to match with what the Bible says. Those are things you can learn about after you've accepted Christ, though. The part where you become a Christian, well," Reverend Green said with a smile, "it is that simple."
Before anyone could say anything else, Lizzie bowed her head and started praying out loud, "God, I've done bad things, and I'm sure I will again. Sometimes on purpose and sometim
es on accident. I want to come live with you in heaven someday and see Ma again, so I got to take care of that bad stuff. It's called sin, but You already know that. Please forgive me for it and send Jesus to live in my heart so He can help me be good. Amen."
When Lizzie lifted her head, a smile lit her face. Taking Bobby's hand, she said, "It truly is that simple. I feel better inside already. But if you want to wait, that's okay. You're still my brother, and I love you."
"I don't want to wait," Bobby said. When he still made no move to pray, Lizzie, still holding his hand, asked, "Are you worried about Mary and the others?"
"What if this upsets them?" Bobby asked.
Grady stepped in and answered his question, "Bobby, I hope it doesn't, but if it does, you keep on doing exactly what you've been doing all these years. Love them. Work hard to help provide for them. Be the best brother you can. They might be scared you'll think badly about them because they don't believe the same way about Jesus. Keep being yourself, and they'll get past it."
Bobby nodded solemnly, still listening. "Besides, Bobby," Lizzie said, "I want Mary and Clive and Gigi to come live in heaven with us and Ma someday. We got t' show them how great it is to be saved so they'll want to ask Jesus into their hearts, too."
Nodding to his sister, Bobby bowed his head and prayed. Though his words were similar to Lizzie's, they had a more mature edge to them. He closed with, "Please help me to know how to tell the rest of my family about You. Amen."
Reverend Green gave Lizzie a big hug and then, with Grady's help, got up from his squatted position and embraced Bobby. "I'm so happy for both of you," he said. "Please come ask me anytime you have questions. Do either of you have a Bible?" When both children shook their heads no, Reverend Green went into a supply room and came back with a Bible. "Unfortunately, I only have one extra. I guess I've given them all away. You'll have to share for now, but I'll work on finding you another one. There are a lot of great things to read in the Bible, but some new believers find starting in the book of John helpful." Lizzie and Bobby smiled at each other in excitement over the Bible.
"Sometimes," Grady said, "the Bible can be hard to understand. It can be hard for adults, let alone for kids. So if you find things that don't make sense, please ask. We're all here to help you." Lizzie and Bobby looked around to see the nodding and smiling faces of Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes, as well as Reverend Green and Grady.
Lizzie, upon noticing all the attention directed at her, reverted to her quieter self. After thanking the reverend for both of them, Bobby took Lizzie's hand and walked with her to the wagon, where he helped her up. The adults weren't far behind them, and the wagon was soon leaving the church yard.
As soon as Lizzie and Bobby had been dropped off and Gramps gave the horses a "hayup" to get them moving down the road, Gram turned to Grady and said, "You seem awfully somber."
"I don't think Mary's going to be happy about this," he said on a sigh.
Chapter Sixteen
The next morning came, and Grady was on the Fitzgerald's front porch almost two hours ahead of his typical schedule. When he finally heard movement within, he tapped lightly at the door. Mary greeted him with a glare that would have dried up a well. Trying not to react, Grady said, "Get us some coffee, and come sit out here on the porch with me. You can yell at me out here."
When Mary slammed the door in his face, albeit quietly, Grady knew he was in for it. She was a sight to behold when she was angry. Mary had filled out some in the weeks since her Pa's death. She was still slender, but her color was better and she no longer looked like she wouldn't be able to stand against a strong wind. Her sable hair was always pulled back, but she didn't wear it quite as tightly bound as she used to, and sometimes his fingers itched to reach out and tug a strand loose. Who was he kidding? She was worth a second look even when she wasn't angry, maybe especially when she wasn't.
A short time later Mary came out with two cups of coffee. Grady waited until she was seated to take a drink of his. If he hadn't been sure of her feelings before, he certainly was now. The coffee was strong and bitter, void of the usual four spoons of sugar Grady liked in his. When Mary sat there drinking her coffee, he said "It's hard to stay mad when there's such a beautiful sunrise to look at."
"I should be working, not loafing out here with you," Mary said shortly.
"You're mad," Grady said, accusation creeping into his voice despite his best efforts to keep it out. The morning got frosty in a hurry when Mary next peered his way. Still, she didn't say anything. "Would it make you feel better to yell at me?"
In a soft voice conveying a world of devastation and hurt, Mary asked, "Why'd you go and do it?"
"Which part exactly?" Did she mean taking the kids to church? Telling them about Jesus? Praying in their presence at mealtimes? Grady wished he knew precisely what had her so angry at him.
"Jesus isn't going to help them, you know." The venom in Mary's voice was palpable. "He never once helped us when we needed Him most. You're lying to them and fooling them into believing they have someone on their side that is never actually going to be there for them."
Relieved they were getting to the root of the problem, Grady took a deep breath and said, "I respectfully disagree. I believe Jesus will be there for them whenever they need Him and even when they don't think they need Him."
"Jesus is nothing more than a nursery rhyme. You are setting them up for a terrible disappointment, and I'm the one who will be left to pick up the pieces when that happens."
"Mary, have you said any of this to Lizzie and Bobby?" Grady's voice was gentle, hurting for what she may have said to those children, hoping their new excitement for Christ hadn't been quashed by their older sister.
"What do you take me for? I'm not the one here trying to destroy them. Of course I didn't say any of this to Lizzie and Bobby!" Anger was visible in the clenching of her jaw, the vein beating in her neck, and even in the fold of her apron where it lay in her lap, trapped by her fist. The woman's body practically shouted fury. It would be hard for Lizzie and Bobby not to notice her upset, but if Mary didn't tell them why she was cross, hopefully then they wouldn't be too crushed by her attitude.
"Are you going to stop the boys from coming over to help me?" Grady didn't know what he would say if that was what she intended.
"I wish I could," she said with brutal honesty. "If I do, they'll turn on me more than they already have. You're not going to steal my family from me."
Grady rose, torn between leaving Mary to her unreasonable anger and asking her to explain why she felt he was such a threat. Before he could decide, the sound of an approaching horse reached him.
Sheriff Spooner arrived and, climbing down from his painted mare, said, "I was hoping to get a word with you, Mary, before the young'uns got up for the day. We need to have a private conversation." Mary rose from her seat, gave Grady an unreadable look, and walked down the porch steps toward the sheriff.
Recalling the last time Sheriff Spooner wanted to have a private conversation with Mary, Grady silently slipped into the house. He hadn't missed the look Mary gave him. His presence was neither expected nor welcome at the moment.
****
"Mary, what can you tell me about your pa's activities the day of the shooting in town?"
Shrugging, Mary answered, "Pa had been gone for a couple of days. That wasn't too unusual. Grady and the Wilkeses came and got us on their way home, and we spent the rest of that day with them. The next morning we came back home, and Pa was here."
"Did you notice anything unusual in his behavior, the way he dressed, anything like that? Did he maybe have more money to spend than usual?"
"I didn't notice anything different. I wouldn't know about money. You'd have to ask the folks at the saloon about that."
Running a hand over his drawn face, the sheriff looked much like he had when he'd told her of her father's death. Whatever was on the sheriff's mind now, she figured, must be nearly as bad. Trepidation slithered through her like a vip
er on water.
"I don't know how to tell you this, Mary, so I'm going to come right out and say it." Mary nodded apprehensively. "We have some evidence indicating your pa may have been involved in the robbery."
"That can't be, Sheriff. Pa was mean, but he wasn't a thief."
"What makes you believe so?" The sheriff, with his lifted brow and puzzled expression, seemed genuinely interested in her answer.
"Ma believed in Pa. He got mean after she died, but if she believed in him, then he couldn't have been the kind of person you're describing. You want me to tell my brothers and sisters their pa was a crook. It's bad enough already growing up with that specter of violence. I can't add thieving to the burden they each have to carry because they got saddled with him for a pa."
"It's more than the robbery, Mary," the sheriff said reluctantly. "About a year before your ma took sick, there was a double murder north of town. We always suspected your pa. His pocket watch was found at the scene, and we had a witness who said he saw your pa later that day, his clothes bloody and his pockets full. The witness disappeared, though, before I could arrest your pa. I didn't want him to know I was on to him, so I had to let it go until I got enough evidence to make a judge happy. Unfortunately, that day never came."
The color draining from her face, Mary said, "That doesn't sound like enough evidence. Ma believed in him."
"I had to talk to your ma a couple of times during that investigation. She wasn't as sure of your pa as you seem to think she was." After a pause, he added, "I think she protected all of you—from your pa's violence, sure, but also from knowing the truth about the kind of man he was."
Mary felt the world around her spinning away. The color started to fade from her view as darkness snuck in from the outer edges of her sight. Sheriff Spooner reacted in time to catch her as she collapsed in a faint.