Sufficient Ransom

by Sylvia Sarno

  Ann pulled into an empty space in front of the pastor’s townhouse and turned off the car engine. Peering out the car window, she noted that the entrance to the two-story unit on the second level was accessible by a painted staircase. The single staircase serviced two units facing each other across a shared deck. According to Nora, Chet’s girlfriend lived next door. A one-car garage tucked under each unit reminded Ann of a neighborhood of row houses she had once seen on the outskirts of London—tidy but uninteresting conformity.

  Despite Chet reassuring her that the gathering would consist of friendly people casually discussing various issues, Ann didn’t really know what to expect. More, she didn’t know anybody who would be at the meeting, other than Chet. She was curious about his girlfriend, Diane. Nora said Chet and Diane started dating soon after she moved in next door. Apparently Diane had her own bookkeeping business and worked from home.

  Diane answered the door and welcomed Ann with a warm smile. She was about thirty-five years old, a little on the heavy side, with lightly freckled skin, and dark hair. Indicating an open room that included the kitchen, a dining area, and living room, Diane said, “Come on in, Ann. We have a small group today.”

  Six people were seated on two sofas and an assortment of chairs around a wood coffee table. From across the room, a young man caught Ann’s eye. He had unkempt, dirty blond hair, pale skin, and gaunt cheeks. He was staring down at his clasped hands. Ann wondered if he was one of the drug addicts from the outreach program Chet spoke of.

  Ann noticed that several of the others, two women and an older man, were casting furtive glances in her direction. They were probably wondering who she was, or maybe they already knew. Ann’s image had been widely disseminated in the newspapers and on the Internet. She felt uneasy.

  Diane was saying, “I made coffee. And we have donuts and bagels. Help yourself, Ann.”

  “Thanks, Diane,” Ann said. “Uh, where’s Chet?”

  “He’s upstairs,” Diane said. “He should be down in a minute.

  Ann didn’t feel like engaging in small talk with anyone. She was starting to get a headache and wanted to take an aspirin. She asked her hostess where the bathroom was.

  Diane pointed to a hallway at the back of the room past the staircase. “Second door on the right.”

  After taking care of her business, Ann was about to leave the bathroom when she heard a man’s voice outside the closed door. The man was saying, “Please, Pastor. Yes. Yes! I accept Jesus with all my heart. Could I have the stuff now? You promised.” A low murmur followed. Then, “Now Jimmy—” It was Chet. “I’m giving these—” It sounded like he said drugs. “—back to you on the condition that…”

  Chet’s voice had dropped. Ann heard a rustling sound. She imagined a paper bag trading hands. Perspiration warmed her neck and face. Did Chet just give drugs to a drug addict? She was afraid to open the door and reveal that she’d overheard a private conversation between Chet and very likely one of the “reformed” drug addicts he spoke of. The voices were getting fainter. After waiting a half-minute more, Ann opened the bathroom door and stepped out. Thankfully no one was in the hall.

  The living room was quieter. Chet and Diane were sitting on the love seat facing the others. A short, red-haired man in baggy jeans and a long tee shirt sat on Chet’s right side. The boy looked to be about twenty-years-old. He sported dark tattoos on both arms and silver hoops in each ear. Ann wondered if he was the person Chet had been talking to.

  Refreshments were laid out on a plaid-covered table by the staircase. Though she was not much of a coffee drinker—Ann preferred tea—she helped herself to a large cupful so she would have something to focus on during the meeting. She tossed a fourth spoon of sugar into her drink, picked the cup up, and moved toward the group.

  Seated, Ann glanced around. The pale, gaunt-faced man was whispering to the red-haired, tattoo boy.

  Chet reached for a bible on the table. “We’ll start with our traditional opening prayer. But first I’d like to welcome Ann.” Smiling, he lifted his hands in greeting.

  The group spoke in unison. “Welcome, Ann.”

  Ann looked around shyly. “Thank you so much.” She wondered if they knew she was an atheist.

  Chet began, “Lord. Before we start our meeting, we quiet ourselves before You. For You are filled with beauty and light, and care deeply about us. Help us listen, before speaking. Help us understand these people, before making our case. Help us value the ones we’re about to meet, before thinking of our own concerns and troubles. May Your light enfold us. May Your grace flourish in us. This is our prayer. Amen.”

  There was murmured assent around the room.

  Chet continued. “We are One as He is One. Let us pray for Travis Olson. For his parents. And for all who love him. Our Lord watches over the child. His heart filled with love, our Father brings this young soul into the light. For the child is surely under His protection.”

  Ann sipped her coffee. She didn’t really understand what Chet was saying. She saw only that he was earnest. That there was love in his voice. And righteousness.

  She was sitting on the sofa next to an older man dressed in faded blue jeans, a white tee shirt, and a mustard-yellow, sweater vest. The man was blowing loudly on a cupful of coffee. A paper plate, heavy with three donuts and a bagel, sat on his lap. Her neighbor’s eyebrows lifted in friendly greeting to Ann when she turned to see who was making all the noise. He didn’t seem to be paying the least bit attention to Chet. Ann wondered wryly if he came to prayer group for the snacks.

  A buxom woman in a tight black dress and sheepskin boots had the floor. The care worn lines at her eyes and mouth softened when she spoke of Jesus. “Jesus told me to get out. He knew I couldn’t do it any more. My daughter needed me to be home at night. Las Vegas is a tough place for any woman, let alone someone with no family. Jesus lifted me from the filth into the clean light.” She bowed her head. “Thank you, dear Lord.”

  Chet leaned over and whispered something to the tattooed boy. The boy’s eyes were pink and glassy, like he had just taken something. Again, Ann wondered if the pastor had given him drugs. Or maybe she had just misheard the conversation and jumped to conclusions again.

  The boy hesitated. When he finally spoke his voice was nasal. “Jesus, uh has helped me a lot. I don’t know what I’d do without Him.”

  When he fell silent, Chet said, “Thank you, Jimmy.”

  When it was Ann’s turn, Diane leaned over and whispered, “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, Ann.”

  Ann didn’t know what to say and she didn’t like being the center of attention. After acknowledging Diane’s kindness with a small nod, she bowed her head and remained silent.

  Ann returned home from the prayer meeting as her husband was getting ready to leave the house. “Where are you going?” she asked him.

  “I’m meeting with the consultant who set up the website and Facebook pages for Travis,” Richard said. “They’ve had a lot of traffic but no leads to speak of. We’re gonna see if we can tweak things to bring in something worthwhile.”

  “Are they working with police on this?” Ann asked.

  Richard nodded. “It was Tom who told me about them. Uh, did you, uh go to Chet’s prayer meeting?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “How was it?”

  She shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

  “Just okay?” There was a hopeful note in Richard’s voice.

  “Actually,” Ann said. “‘I overheard something strange.”

  “I could’ve told you you’d be hearing weird stuff.”

  The sarcasm in her husband’s voice made her want to drop the subject. “Forget it.”

  “I’m sorry,” Richard said. He really did sound sorry. “It’s just that... Well. You know how I feel about that evangelical talk. Tell me what bothered you.”

  Her husband was good at figuring things out. If Ann told him about the conversation she’d overheard while in the bathroom, h
e might think of an explanation that made more sense than the one she came up with.

  “Chet and Pastor have been working with this drug clinic in Encinitas,” she said. “It’s an outreach program, where they counsel addicts who have kicked the habit. Keeps them on track, I guess. I overheard Chet talking to some guy, while I was in the bathroom. They were right outside the door. I think Chet said he would give the guy drugs if he accepted Jesus.”

  Richard’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, you think he said that?”

  Ann explained that she wasn’t sure if she heard the word “drugs” correctly.

  “I don’t think even Chet’s that stupid,” Richard said. “You probably misheard. Why does he have these people coming to his house?”

  “I guess the prayer meetings are part of their religious education,” Ann said.

  Richard’s eyebrows lifted. “Maybe Chet manipulates these poor souls into accepting Jesus—whatever that means—and then rewards them with the very stuff he supposedly hopes to get them off of.” He shook his head. “Nah. It’s too weird.”

  “You’re right,” Ann said, feeling foolish.

  CHAPTER 17

  Thursday, October 18

  11:00 A.M.

  The next day, Ann entered New Way Evangelical Church. A week had passed since she was rescued from the tunnel. Coming to the church was Ann’s second step toward fulfilling her promise to give religion a chance. From the moment she entered New Way, Ann felt that people were staring at her. Eyes averted, she made her way toward the front of the auditorium, to a vacant seat a few rows from the stage. She stopped short. A middle-aged woman with long, gray hair had stepped out from one of the rows of seats. The woman was holding a camera. Spotting Ann, she halted and stared, a quizzical look on her face. She was Travis’s former teacher, Amanda White.

  Her eyes roaming Ann’s face, Amanda spoke slowly and deliberately. “Mrs. Olson, I was so sorry to hear about Travis. I’m sure he will come home to you soon.”

  Though Amanda’s words were kind, Ann couldn’t help but detect a hint of smugness in her close-set eyes, almost as if she were thinking that Ann deserved to lose her child. It was the teacher, after all, who had called CPS on her.

  “Thank you,” Ann said, turning to go. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to the woman who had accused her of child abuse.

  “The Lord is a great comfort in these difficult times,” Amanda added quietly. “May you find solace in Him.”

  Ann moved away. She couldn’t get away from the woman fast enough.

  Safely seated, Ann glanced back to see if Amanda was still close by. She saw the teacher snapping pictures of people and the stage. Ann wondered if she was a New Way official or something. When Amanda left the auditorium, Ann breathed a sigh of relief.

  Ann’s eyes slowly travelled the open space. She hadn’t been in a church since she was a child, and never in an evangelical one. Rows upon rows of seats upholstered in patterned fabric of muted blues and browns looked like they could accommodate many hundreds of people. A shiny grand piano, a keyboard, a drum set, and a few microphone stands adorned the massive stage at the front of the hall. A large television screen atop a steel column in the center of the stage towered over the musical instruments. Track lights running the length of the platform flashed alternate shades of soft pink.

  The noise level was rising. People stood in the aisles talking to one another. Others were hunkered down in their seats, cloth-covered books in hand. A boxed-in area about ten or fifteen rows behind Ann’s seat contained two big cameras on tripods. A third camera mounted on a moveable arm hovered over the rest of the equipment.

  Her perusal of the church complete, Ann faced forward again. Unexpectedly, Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here played in her head. She had heard the song on the car radio on the way over. The haunting lyrics spoke to her sorrow. Did heaven and a hell really exist, or were they just a state of mind?

  “Ann.”

  She jerked her head up.

  Chet stood beside her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” Ann said gratefully. She glanced around to see if others had noticed her discomfort. She noticed a middle-aged woman in a red dress and high heels across the aisle staring at her. Beside her, the woman’s companion snapped chewing gum as he checked out a young woman in fitted jeans and a tight shirt, one row over.

  Ann focused on the pastor. “Will you begin your sermon soon, Chet?”

  “First some music, a few announcements, and then I start. I’m glad you found a seat up front,” he winked. “So I can keep an eye on you.”

  It seemed to Ann that Chet was being overly friendly, almost as if he were playing the role of pastor for the benefit of a friend visiting his church for the first time. She shrugged her thoughts away. As co-founder of this rapidly growing church, Chet understandably had many concerns, like the drug clinic, and surely other things, she didn’t know about.

  The musicians and the singer, a young woman, took their places on the stage. As soon as the music started, the entire congregation got to their feet and started swaying to the harmony. The band’s singer belted out Christian pop tunes with such heartfelt emotion, Ann found herself singing and moving to the music along with everyone else.

  Hundreds of arms pumped the air keeping time with the music. The words We are forgiven in you, oh, Jesus. We are forgiven. Oh yes we are. Oh yes we are, streamed across the bottom of the screen above the stage, alternating with close-up shots of the singer. Oh, Lord Jesus, there is no one else for me. No one but You. No one but You. Her eyes to the screen, Ann tried to stay on key. The last song, Hallelujah, brought her to tears.

  After the band stopped playing, commercials for upcoming New Way events flashed across the screen.

  A few minutes later, Chet took the podium. His voice boomed across the packed space. “Dear friends, old and new.” He smiled down at Ann. “Today, I want to talk with you about God’s love. His infinite Love for man and woman. Book of John, Chapter 3. ‘For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.’

  “Why would God give us his one and only Son? The answer, my friends, lies in the scope of His love. The greater His love, the greater His challenge. His accomplishment? To prove His love. Think about it. You can’t just say I love you, and leave it at that.” Chet raised a finger in admonishment. “Remember. If you truly believe in an idea, you must act on it. Integrity requires it. God took action. He sacrificed His only Son for each and every one of us.”

  Her son. The vision of Travis’s bruised body the day he jumped off the swing swam before Ann’s eyes. His scared face when the police came to the house after the laptop incident. How could she not have known that being a mother was the most important part of her life?

  Chet was studying the pages of his sermon. When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were shining. “Our Lord pledged His only Son, Jesus Christ, so that we, depraved sinners all of us, could have a chance to fulfill His vision. Psalms 49, Verse 7. ‘No one can redeem the life of another or give to God a sufficient ransom.’ Except Jesus, of course. Only Christ can be a sufficient ransom to God so that we may live.

  “Timothy Chapter 2, Verses 5 and 6. ‘For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men who gave himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time.’ There’s that word ransom again, my friends. Jesus gave his life as ‘ransom for all.’”

  It was so quiet Ann could hear her heart pounding in her ears.

  Chet continued. “Jesus gave His life for us so that we, born in original sin, could walk in the righteous path of the Lord. He knew His purpose on earth was to die. Jesus wanted to die so that we would have a chance to live.”

  Ann felt a sudden impulse to run from this talk of sacrifice and death, but she had to hear the rest.

  In the voice of a father leading his children through their studies, Chet announced, “Book of Romans, Chapter 10. Christ is the culmination of the law so
that there may be righteousness for everyone who believes.”

  Everywhere, people opened their bibles. Ann felt a nudge. Her neighbor, an elderly woman in a flowered dress and white pumps, offered to share her bible. Propping the book on the armrest between them, she urged Ann to read along.

  Nodding her thanks, Ann leaned over and tried to follow the words. “If you declare with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” Her heart full of sorrow, Ann imagined Jesus nailed to the cross to redeem mankind’s sins.

  The sermon ended, the audience streamed toward the doors. Someone touched Ann’s arm. Turning, she saw Todd Pannikin looking down at her with a benevolent smile. “I’m so happy you could make it today, Mrs. Olson,” he said.

  When Ann said something vaguely appropriate, the Pastor added, “By the way. Did Chet invite you to New Way’s annual retreat at the end of the month?”

  Ann shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t know anything about it.”

  A dark-haired man with black eyes stepped up to Pannikin. He stood waiting for the pastor to acknowledge him. Apparently sensing the man’s presence, Todd turned slightly. “Come to my office in fifteen minutes, John, and we’ll settle that matter.”

  John bowed and disappeared into the crowd.

  As he turned back to Ann, the pastor’s smile was ingratiating. “What were we talking about? Oh yes. The retreat. Every year hundreds of our devoted gather in the San Bernardino Mountains for a weekend to honor the Lord. We would love for you and your husband to join us.”

  “I’ll talk to Richard,” Ann said. “But honestly, I don’t think he’ll go for it.”

  The Pastor’s eyes were questioning. “Your husband? He couldn’t come today?”

  “I’m afraid not,” she replied. “Pastor, I want you to know that we appreciate everything you’ve done for us.”

  As she turned away, Ann noticed Pastor Todd’s eyebrows lift in surprised consternation. She followed his gaze to a group of people clustered around a well dressed man and woman at the end of the entrance hall. Like reporters swarming a pair of celebrities, everyone seemed to be talking to the couple at once. But unlike Hollywood types, these people were clearly uncomfortable with all the attention. His arm outstretched in a protective gesture, the man guided his companion toward the doors. Spotting the pastor across the sea of people, the man pointed to the doors, indicating Pannikin should meet them outside.