“Miss Bertie, tell our viewers about your role in the new school.”
“Oh, I’ll be doing a little bit of everything. I’ll ring that pretty new bell in the bell tower each morning. I’ll be helping Professor Stanley with some of the administration and working with our children and parents when needed. I’ll clean the school on Tuesdays and keep the copier machine loaded with paper. There’ll be days I serve lunch. Many of our children don’t know their grandparents very well, so I’ll be a surrogate grandma to them, too.”
“Chan, this is Jennifer back at the studio. Mrs. Ellis mentioned the migrant children. I want to refresh our viewers’ memory that these are the ‘Grebey Island Migrants’ we’ve heard and read so much about.”
“Right, Jennifer. For a while, it appeared the story of the Grebey Island Migrants might have a tragic ending, particularly after the suicide of local pastor Duke Windsor. Through the efforts of federal law enforcement, however, the decades-old presence of white-supremacy groups in Saxon County was brought to an abrupt end earlier this year. The Stanley-Meekins School is just one of several examples of rebirth and reconciliation in Saxon County.”
“And Chan, we know that this story is close to your heart because you grew up a short distance from where you’re standing, and even attended that very school.”
“This was where I spent my first years as a student, Jennifer, learning from one of the school’s namesakes, Mr. Vance Meekins. It was a very different time in Saxon County, but I prefer to envision the future rather than hold on to the past.”
“A very moving story, indeed. Thank you Chan, for sharing this with us and, in closing, we here at Channel Thirty-Five are sad to report this will be Chan’s last appearance as part of our News Team. Chan, who has been a fixture in Louisville for the last decade, is taking his leave and trying something new. Tell us about that, Chan.”
“Jennifer, I have to admit to getting caught up in what has been happening here in Saxon County, so much so that I have chosen to break a promise I made to myself when I left many years ago. You can indeed go home again. My children and I are starting a new chapter here on Grebey Island. Lani and Ryan are excited to be enrolled in the Stanley-Meekins School.
“And I am humbled and delighted to be the school’s first teacher.”
EPILOGUE
“Really, Chan? Harder than professional sports?”
“Definitely. As a pitcher, at least I got days off between starts. Teaching comes at me a hundred miles an hour every day.”
Chan sipped from his wineglass. It was the first night since school began six weeks earlier that he’d taken an evening off from planning lessons and grading papers. He wouldn’t have done it if she hadn’t called repeatedly.
The restaurant was the nicest in Saxon County, despite being several miles from Adair. It’s location, the spot where Drake’s Drive-In used to be, was not lost on Chan, nor were the kind words of the well-wishers who approached their table, a steady stream that only stopped when the owner began seating new arrivals in other areas of the restaurant, leaving this cozy corner to the two of them. Looking across the table, he had to admit she was even prettier than he’d thought the first time he saw her.
And she was looking for a connection that went beyond friendship; that became clear early on.
“I read in the paper that you’re going to be traveling.”
“Florida next week,” Chan said. “I’m speaking at education conferences in Tampa and Bradenton. I tried to get Harvester and Miss Bertie to go, but they insist I do those kinds of things.”
“I see their point,” she said, absently pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear in a way that made her seem even prettier. “The story has resonated with people everywhere.”
“We already have parents wanting to enroll their children next year. It’s amazing.” Chan paused for a moment. “I haven’t forgot the role you played in this. You were a friendly face early on, when friendly faces were few and far between.”
The conversation continued through dessert and in the car; nothing too deep, but that was the way Chan preferred it after the demands of the previous few weeks. They pulled up to her house just before ten.
“Miss Bertie is babysitting tonight?”
“She’s having a sleepover at her house,” he replied. “Lani, Ryan, and a half-dozen other kids. I’m supposed to pick them up at noon tomorrow.”
“Hmmm. In that case,” Melissa Powter nodded toward her front door. “Would you like to come in?”
Chan smiled. “Melissa, I really appreciate you getting me away from work for an evening, but...”
“You’re not feeling anything between us,” she said, her simple tone belying the hurt in her eyes. “I can tell. Your mind has been someplace else all evening.”
“I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is lead you on.”
“It’s okay,” she said softly, reaching for the door handle. “I have to be at work at eight in the morning anyway.”
“Do you like being police chief?”
She nodded. “I’ve started making some long-overdue changes. I’m not going to lie to you, Chan; we still have a couple guys who think Bump Cannon and Darrell Eskridge got railroaded. They won’t last long, though. The city council is behind me and it’s just a matter of time before the clean-up is complete.”
“If anyone can do it, Melissa, you can. Your dad’s been stopping by school a couple times a week, getting to know the children and helping where he can.”
“You did more than break his nose, all those years ago. You made him a different person. He isn’t vocal about it, but I see it every day.”
They were silent for a few moments.
“I really should get inside.” Melissa pecked him on the cheek. “Thank you for a nice evening. I’m sure we’ll be seeing plenty of each other.”
Chan thought back over the evening as he watched her make her way into the house. She’d noticed his mind was preoccupied. Was he really that transparent? For the past month, he’d done little beyond going to school and back. What little time that was left was happily consumed by Lani and Ryan. Still, it was no way to live. If he continued like that, he’d be burned-out in a couple years.
I know the plans I have for you...
“I hope those plans don’t include spending my life alone,” he said aloud.
What he needed was some balance. Melissa provided the means for an enjoyable evening, but there needed to be more. Something to complete the circle his life had taken. As nice as she was, Melissa Powter couldn’t do that. In his heart, Chan knew only one person had the potential to fill that need.
Picking up his cellphone, he punched in her number.
Plans to prosper you and not harm you.
The phone rang once.
Plans to give you hope.
Twice.
And a future.
Three times.
It was about to go to voicemail when he heard her voice.
“Good evening, this is Theresa.”
ACKNKOWLEDGEMENTS
I’m fifty-seven years old – pretty late in life for a first book, but here it is. There will be at least one more. Shunned is almost finished. It’s a Grebey Island prequel, featuring Theresa Traynor.
This writing thing is hard! It’s also fun, challenging, and addictive. I hope to continue learning along the way.
There are folks who have helped. This is where I express my gratitude.
Thanks Robin! I love you!
A shout-out to my beta readers. Sherry Davis, Norma Elgan, and Scott Ellis. My high school English teacher, Mrs. Judy Falin Dellinger, also took a run at it. It’s been wonderful reconnecting with her, even if she is a Detroit Tigers fan.
Oh yeah, my mom read it too.
I spent seven years teaching in Perryville, Missouri and still consider it kind of a second hometown. There I had friends, mentors, and colleagues who were important to me. The good things about Grebey Island and Saxon County were drawn from there
. The bad stuff came from my own imagination.
And there’s my real hometown – Galestown, Maryland. Most of the farm-related aspects of this book are based on what I learned there. I wasn’t much of a farmer, Dad, but at least I listened.
Hey Alison, Bryce, Cody, Geoff, Jill, Kelcy, and Lynnea, you got your name in a book! Love you guys.
Thanks to the publishing company that showed considerable interest in my book, but wanted me to change it so much that even I wouldn’t recognize it. Good or bad, it’s still mine.
I appreciate the mission-centeredness of our home church, Living Stones Community Church in Blue Springs, Missouri. Sorry I’m not there more.
Thank you, Lord Jesus, for giving me the time, interest, and ability to write these words. Without you, I’m nothing.
ABOUT PAUL E. WOOTTEN
Home is Galestown, Maryland. I was born there and it remains with me. My parents are farmers. My grandparents were farmers. My brother is a farmer. Everyone knew early on that I wasn't going to be a farmer. You have to be able to see to be a farmer. They plant straight rows, examine young plants for insects and disease, and deliver the crops to market. I wasn't able to do any of that.
I was blind.
Well, not totally blind, like "blind like a bat" blind (Though you should know that bats aren't really blind). I was legally blind, the result of an eye disease called Scheie Syndrome. I could see faces and landscape, and could read just fine if I held the books close enough. Driving a pickup, tractor, combine or bean-picker, though? No chance. Those things cost lots of money and there was no way Dad was entrusting them to me. I always had bicycles, though, and when I was eleven I got a mini-bike for Christmas. Despite crashing into a hay elevator, slamming through a large wooden storage box, and almost hanging myself on fishing nets strung out to dry, I survived.
During high school, I decided I wanted to become a teacher. There were some good role models in Dorchester County. After four years at Western Kentucky University, I moved to Perryville, Missouri where I taught Marketing and Business classes for seven wonderful years. That area of Southeast Missouri serves as a backdrop for most of Harvest of Thorns, and folks in that area will recognize plenty of names and locations.
Unfortunately, my vision was deteriorating. The writing on my teacher notes was getting larger and the back of the class was pretty much impossible to see. A St. Louis ophthalmologist confirmed I was losing my sight.
But, he said there was hope.
A cornea transplant. Still considered experimental in the 1980's, but as the doc said, "You don't have much to lose."
And guess what? It worked!
Within a few months, my vision had improved dramatically. I could see things I never saw before, like leaves on a tree and blades of grass. Best of all, I was able to pass the driver's test. At age 28 I bought a red sports car and accumulated speeding tickets like candy.
Eventually, I slowed down. My career took a turn toward school leadership. Along the way, I accepted Jesus into my life. That happened while watching a famous TV evangelist one day when school was called off because of snow. I wish I could say it's been smooth sailing ever since. God never left me, although I sure pulled away from Him plenty of times. I fell short, stumbled, and fell, but I discovered that His love never wavered. It's because of His love that my writing is aimed at solving real-world issues using Biblical truths. My books aren't always comfortable. They're pretty gritty, actually. People get hurt, even killed. Unkind things are said and situations sometimes reach the breaking point - just like real life. But also like real life, we serve a God who is bigger than our problems. I want that to shine through.
My wife Robin is the most upbeat, optimistic person I know. She and I split our time between Kansas City and Florida. We have four grown kids, Jill, Lynnea, Cody, and Alison, two sons-in-law, Bryce and Geoff, and daughter-in-law, Kelcy. In January, 2016, Jill and Bryce gave us our first grandchild, Fletcher Wade.
In 2011 I retired from the field of education. Since then, I've worked for the Kansas City Royals, who pay me to watch baseball and be nice to people. Along the way I've written freelance features on a variety of subjects for Royals Baseball Insider and a number of local and national publications. Harvest of Thorns is my first attempt at fiction. I hope you like it!
Please swing by my website, http://www.paulwoottenbooks.com or follow me on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/paulwoottenbooks/. Thanks!
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