The Heavenly Fugitive

by Gilbert, Morris

  “I thought I’d be so happy to get a break like this, but Ryan, it was humiliating. The costumes were almost nonexistent. It would be like being in burlesque. I don’t like it.”

  Ryan had listened quietly. Now he asked a few penetrating questions and then finally said, “I haven’t seen the show All for Love, but I’ve seen pictures of the advertisements. It looks pretty low, Amelia.”

  “It is low. Lower than you can imagine. It’s not just the scanty costumes and those vulgar dances they do—they make a mockery out of real love. It’s nothing but sex.”

  “It sounds like you’re going to have trouble fitting in if you do get the part.”

  “But, Ryan, it would be so good for my career.”

  Ryan did not answer, and Amelia felt his displeasure. “I know you don’t like it. I don’t either, but look at it this way. If I do the show and I’m good at it, I can get better parts. Why, I might even be able to talk them into letting me wear a more . . . well . . . a more decent costume.”

  “You really think that, Amelia?”

  Amelia knew she had been fantasizing. “No,” she said flatly. “I’d have to be what they want me to be. It goes with the part.”

  Ryan said abruptly, “You know, I read a story about trapping beavers out west in the early part of our history.”

  “What do beavers have to do with what I’m telling you?”

  “Well, sometimes the trappers would come and instead of finding a beaver they’d find just a leg. The beaver would gnaw off his own leg in order to escape.”

  “What a horrible thought!”

  “I thought about those beavers,” Ryan said quietly. The traffic was light, and the stars overhead illuminated the dark canopy like tiny flashing candles. “Those beavers got away, but they had to limp around on three legs the rest of their lives. I’ve known so many people who have had to do something like that. They got into something unpleasant. They got out of it, but they had to, in effect, injure themselves just like those beavers. They left something of themselves behind. I’d hate to see that happen to you, Amelia.”

  Amelia was accustomed to this sort of advice from Ryan Kildare. He had a poetic mind and a quick imagination. The little parable he had told her expressed her own fears. She was afraid she would lose part of herself if she signed the contract with Saul Meyer.

  When they reached the door of her apartment, she turned to him and smiled. “You wouldn’t like my being in that musical, would you?”

  “No, I wouldn’t, Amelia.”

  “I wouldn’t like it either, but it’s what I’ve worked for. I don’t want to miss my big chance.”

  “If you’re unhappy about it now,” Ryan said quietly, “you’ll be much more unhappy later.”

  Amelia knew he was right. She tried to summon up an argument, some way to answer his questioning, but she could not. “Good night, Ryan.”

  “Just a minute, Amelia.” Ryan suddenly stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders. She stopped with surprise and saw a look in his eyes that held her still.

  “I want you to marry me, Amelia.”

  Amelia could not answer. She had been expecting this moment to come for a long time, and now it was here. She thought she had her answer prepared in case he ever asked the question, but now she found herself unable to speak. She studied the cleanness of his features and felt the power of his eyes. She had never had such strong feelings for a man before and wondered if she ever would for another man. She had always tried to control her feelings for him, had built a wall she thought he could not get through. He stood for things now she could not afford if she were to be a success on the stage. But, despite her effort to resist him, her wall seemed to be breaking down. He put his arms around her, and his lips came down on hers. She no longer resisted, aware of his strength and goodness. She felt the pressure of his body against hers and felt herself responding as she had never allowed herself to before.

  Finally he drew back, releasing her, and said, “I don’t have anything to offer you but my love. I’ll never be rich, but I love you, Amelia, and I always will.”

  Amelia felt weak, not just in her limbs, which were trembling, but in her spirit as well. She knew it had something to do with the way a woman needs a man. She was physically attracted to Ryan Kildare and always had been. There were other men who were, perhaps, more handsome and certainly many who were more witty and charming, but Ryan had always had the power to touch her. And she felt that now more powerfully than she ever had. She longed to respond, to let herself go, but the struggle she had known for so many years to make something of her life was still there. She still desired fame, money, her name in lights. She knew if she said yes to whatever drove her into the arms of Ryan Kildare, she would be giving up those things.

  Painfully, she whispered, “I can’t do it, Ryan.” She put her hand on his chest and pushed him back, turning away almost forcefully. She fumbled with the key and did not look back. When she stepped inside her apartment, she heard him say, “God wants you, Amelia, and so do I.”

  Amelia could not bear it. She shut the door without answering and ran into the bedroom. She threw herself across the bed and, without understanding her reaction, began to weep. She was not a crying woman, but something had broken within her, and she knew she would not forget this moment for a long time.

  ****

  Rosa did not know why she had agreed to go with Phil to one of his speaking engagements. Lately, he had been accepting invitations to share his testimony and the Gospel at churches and other Christian organizations around the city. His reputation as a fine speaker had grown in the past few months and was enhanced by his status as a public prosecutor and his skill in the courtroom. But something about his Christian talks frightened Rosa. However, when he had called her and asked her out to dinner, she did not know that Phil had received a call from her brother. Jamie had begged Phil to see his sister. “Something’s wrong with her, Mr. Winslow. She’s well physically, so I don’t know what it is. Please try to talk to her. She’s scared, and I’m afraid for her.”

  Phil had said none of this to Rosa, but he himself had been concerned about her. Now as he sat across from her in the car on the way to his speaking engagement, he tried to keep the conversation as light as he could, but he sensed that she was depressed. Finally he asked, “Is that wound still troubling you, Rosa?”

  “Oh no.” Involuntarily Rosa reached up and touched her chest. “It’s all healed up. Dr. Clarkson said it would never give me any problem, but I have nightmares about everything that happened.”

  “It was a tough time.”

  “Do you think about things like that after they’re over?”

  “Why, sure. I can’t help it.”

  Phil noted that Rosa had lost weight and that her face was drawn. “You need to take good care of yourself. Get lots of fresh air and exercise.”

  Rosa did not answer. She was turned in upon herself, and she spoke only when he asked her a question. Finally, when they reached the church where he was speaking, she said, “I feel funny going into Protestant churches.”

  “Don’t think about that. I don’t. I don’t care what’s on the sign outside. It’s what Jesus thinks that counts.”

  Rosa could not understand talk like this. It frightened her. She said no more but went inside with him. He found her a seat and then went to speak with the pastor.

  Rosa was stirred by the song service. They sang a song called “Amazing Grace.” She found it very different from the music sung in the church she had grown up in. The people here sang with enthusiasm, and she listened carefully to the words.

  “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound

  That saved a wretch like me.

  I once was lost but now am found,

  Was blind but now I see.”

  Rosa could make little of the words. Lost? A wretch like me? What does that mean?

  Finally the song service ended, and Phil got up to preach after an introduction by the pastor.

 
Rosa sat uncomfortably in her seat. She was accustomed to great ceremonial correctness in church. Everyone knew what was going to happen next in her church, but here she looked around furtively and saw anticipation on many faces. She understood that they had come expecting God, but how did they find Him? What did they have in their hearts that brought such joy to their expressions?

  When Phil began to speak, she felt a surge of pride in him—he was so handsome and strong—and again she thought, I could never feel about any other man as I do about him. Why can’t he feel that way about me?

  Phil had a fine voice and started with, “I have come at the invitation of your pastor to bring you good tidings. Everywhere I speak I have only one message, and that message is that Jesus Christ is the answer to every need. If you are here tonight and you are sick, He is the healer. If you are sad, He can bring joy into your life. If you are bound by some terrible sin, He can bring you out of that bondage. Whatever your need, Jesus is the answer.”

  It was this sort of thing that disturbed Rosa. How could Jesus do all these things? She had no clear idea in her mind about Jesus. She really had more ideas about Mary, for she had learned from childhood to pray to her. But when Phil even pronounced the name Jesus, he said it as if it were a good name, a strong name. She unconsciously leaned forward, listening with all her might as he spoke.

  “In the gospel of Luke, the eighth chapter, there is a very wonderful and a very powerful story. It concerns a woman who had been ill for twelve years. The Scriptures say in the forty-third verse that she had an issue of blood, that she was hemorrhaging. The Scripture also says in that verse that she had spent every penny she had on doctors, and none of them had been able to help her.”

  Phil looked up then and ran his eyes over the congregation. “I don’t know most of you, but I would say to any of you who are in this building, if you have a great need, you’ve come to the right place. Jesus is present right now, as He always is in every place, to meet that need. I ask you to bow your heads with me, and we will pray that Jesus Christ will walk these aisles, that He will lay His hands on those who need His help, and that we will see those who are helpless made strong in the power of Jesus Christ.”

  The challenge frightened Rosa. She had never prayed like this, but ever since the shooting, she had felt her weakness and how close she had been—as was everyone—to death. Without thinking, she prayed, Oh, Jesus, you know I need help. I don’t understand any of this, but if you can help me, I ask you to do it.

  After the prayer, Phil continued the story of the woman with the issue of blood. She was a woman without hope. He drew a picture of her life and the fear that was in her, how no one on earth could do anything for her, and then he spoke of Jesus. “This woman had heard of Jesus,” he said, “and when she heard He was coming to her town, she went and determined that she would get help for her exhausted, sick body. The streets were probably crowded, for Jesus was a popular man. I imagine she was pushed and shoved around, weak as she was with no man to help her. As far as we know, she had no sons or brothers, but she made her way down the street and finally heard the crowd shouting, ‘Jesus is coming! Jesus is coming!’ ”

  Phil looked out, and his eyes caught Rosa’s. He held her gaze and smiled gently. “I would like to have been there that day when that poor woman did all she could. She simply reached out as Jesus passed and touched His garment. That’s not much to do, is it? It wouldn’t do her any good to touch my coat, but when she touched the garment of Jesus, the Bible says, ‘Immediately her issue of blood stanched.’ She was healed in that moment!

  “And then a very wonderful thing happened. Jesus said, ‘Who touched me?’ And the woman came trembling and fell down before him. And there before all those people, she cried out, with tears of joy, I imagine, how by just touching His garment, she had been healed.”

  Rosa felt tears beginning to form in her eyes. She bowed her head, for she could not face anyone’s gaze.

  “And Jesus said, ‘Daughter, be of good comfort: thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace.’ ” Phil’s voice seemed very close, and as he continued to speak of Jesus, Rosa knew that God was in this place. She felt a presence she had never felt in all of her life, and she simply sat there, her heart crying out. Finally she heard Phil say, “Jesus is standing beside some of you right now. He wants you to reach out and touch His garment, not His literal garment, of course, but you need to reach out just as that poor, sick woman reached out as best she knew how. Jesus responded to her and He’ll respond to you. I want you to reach out with your heart and simply tell Jesus that you are a sinner. I want you to ask Him to cleanse your heart the way He cleansed the body of this woman. I promise you He will do it. That’s why He came to this earth. That’s why He died on the cross. That’s why He’s here tonight—and that’s why you’re here tonight. Will you touch Jesus right now as I pray?”

  Rosa was now sobbing uncontrollably. She knew that something outside herself was surrounding her, holding her, and she wept so hard her shoulders shook.

  Suddenly she felt a stir and then an arm fell across her shoulders. She looked up and saw Phil through the tears, and his face was filled with compassion. “Tonight is for you, Rosa. Reach out and touch Jesus. It’s so easy. He longs to cleanse you and make you His daughter.”

  And so Rosa bowed her head, and Phil prayed, and she prayed.

  And as she prayed, she felt something deep inside that had not been there before. A peace came, and she looked up to Phil and whispered brokenly, “Phil, what is it? What is it inside me that’s so different?”

  “It’s the presence of Jesus Christ, Rosa. You’ve given yourself to Him, and now you’re a child of the King!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “I’ve Always Wanted the Wrong Things”

  Jamie had turned from the camera he had been cleaning, surprised at Rosa’s entrance. Ever since the shooting she had been mostly keeping to herself, but for the past few days he had noticed that a change had come over her. Now as he took in her expression and saw her dark eyes glowing, he felt a gush of relief.

  “Hi, sis,” he said. “What’s up?”

  Rosa reached out and ruffled Jamie’s hair, a fondness for him coming out as it had not done for some time. “I’m just feeling so wonderfully good, Jamie, and I want everybody else to feel the same way.”

  “Well, that’s good news. I was getting real worried about you, sis.”

  “I know you were, and you should have been worried—I was in terrible shape.”

  “Do you still have bad dreams about the shooting?”

  “No, they’re all gone.” She smiled then and hugged herself. “I have much better dreams now.”

  “Well, I’m glad. It was the roughest time any of us ever went through.”

  “Something good did come out of it, Jamie, and that’s what I want to tell you about.” Rosa sat down in the chair across from Jamie’s desk and paused for a moment. She had put this off for several days and now was apprehensive, but she knew she could not contain what had happened to her. This was her first attempt at trying to explain it.

  “I have to tell you something, Jamie,” she began carefully. “After I was shot, my whole life seemed to be going from bad to worse. Even before I got hurt, I was unhappy—for such a long time—and I didn’t know what the problem was. I had everything money could buy, but I was still restless and dissatisfied.”

  Jamie listened as Rosa spoke and could not imagine what secret she had come to reveal. Obviously she was tense, and as she paused, he said, “Look, sis, just tell me what it is. No matter what, I can handle it.”

  “You can, can’t you?” Rosa flashed a smile and took a deep breath. “Well, I’ve become a Christian.”

  “A Christian? But you’ve always been a Christian.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “But you were baptized when you were a baby just like me, and you go to Mass now almost every Sunday.”

  “That’s right, Jamie, I’ve done all those th
ings, but I’ve just found out that that’s not enough. I’ve always been afraid of those people who talked about Jesus as if He were real to them. It always made me nervous, and I thought they were putting me on and making it up. But they’re not, Jamie.” As Rosa ran a hand over her glossy black hair, Jamie saw a beauty in her that could not stem from her features or her hair. Jamie was looking into her eyes, and it was like peering into windows where something warm and beautiful was happening on the other side. He could see that her spirit was entirely different, and he listened intently without interrupting as she related how she had cried out to God in the church where Phil had spoken.

  Finally she concluded, saying, “It’s been so different ever since that moment. As different as night and day, Jamie. I wake up every day full of joy, and I know Jesus is with me until I go to sleep at night. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like nothing I’ve ever known before. But I know Jesus is real, and I’m learning how to be obedient to Him. The Bible that Phil gave me so long ago didn’t mean much to me except for his notes, but now as I read it, it’s just like God is speaking out of that book directly to my heart.”

  Jamie was transfixed and at the same time troubled. “Does this mean you won’t be going to Mass anymore? That you’re not going to be a Catholic?”

  “I’m going to be whatever God tells me to be. If He wants me to stay in the Catholic Church, I’ll do it. If He wants me to leave, I’ll do that.”

  “Have you thought about what the folks would say?”

  “Sure, I’ve thought about it a lot, but it’s something I have to do.” She rose and stood close to her brother. “You’re still my friend, aren’t you, Jamie, just like always?”

  Jamie was not a demonstrative young man, but he suddenly put his arms around Rosa and hugged her tightly. “Sure,” he said huskily. “I can see you’re happy, and that’s all I ever wanted. The folks will just have to understand.”