Several in the crowd muttered to each other as the ceiling lights reflected off the pristine weapon.
“…and help your neighbors,” Dennis continued, stopping in mid-sentence, as Michael stampeded to the basement stairs.
“Debbie,” Dennis whispered, pointing to the podium and moving the microphone closer to her face. “Sing.”
“Me?” she said, loud enough for Michael to hear.
“Yes. You. Sing,” Dennis repeated. “I have to leave for a few minutes.”
“What am I supposed to sing?” she asked.
“You were a DJ at your college radio station. Kumbaya. That’s our Stairway to Heaven. Don’t stop until I return.”
Bam. Bam. Bam.
Michael swung the ax awkwardly against the ground, trying to break up the cement floor.
“Michael,” Dennis called out. “What are you doing?”
“Stay out of my way,” he said, stopping momentarily to rest his arms. “There’s no other choice.”
Bam. Bam. Bam.
Dennis held up his hand. “Stop it now!”
Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam.
He pounded the ax against the floor, managing to chop up a few pieces of concrete.
“This isn’t the way to get back, Michael.”
“I can’t wait for your prayers to deliver me the answers I need.” He pushed Dennis away, then wound up and swung as hard as he could.
Thump.
The ax vibrated in his hands as it struck the ground, dislodging another small piece. He rested a moment, his arms weary. He rubbed his right shoulder, massaging the pain. Breathing deep, he held the ax to his side. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “I know she’s alive. I heard her talking to me. She’s lost. I know it sounds crazy. But being able to go back to that time is just as crazy.” He caught his breath. “You have no idea what it’s like to love a daughter and then to think you can’t help her when she needs you.”
“I do have an idea.”
“How?”
“You need to calm down. We must look at this in a rational way or we will never be able to figure out what to do.”
“Rational? Is there anything happening to me that is rational?”
“I know this. You need to control yourself.”
Michael shook his head.
“I was married and had a daughter many years ago before I found my calling. So yes, I do know what you’re talking about.”
Skeptical, Michael was unsure how to respond. “What do you mean you were married?”
“I had a family until I ruined it.”
“What happened?”
“A long story for another time. Now isn’t the time to discuss this.”
Michael dropped the ax as Connie and Allison arrived in the basement. They both said something but the only sound he could hear now was the faint muffled voices of Debbie and the congregation, singing Kumbaya.
“I’ve got to get back upstairs,” Dennis said, pointing at Michael. “Stay down here. I’ll come back when the service is done and we’ll talk. We’re going to discuss what happened. I need to find out what Jesus said to you about forgiveness and healing. It’s important.”
Why is this so important right now? For God’s sake, my daughter is missing. He stared at the ax and the fragmented pieces of cement scattered across the floor.
“Thank God,” said Connie. “I thought you were going to kill someone.”
He leaned against the wall. “I don’t have the energy to kill anyone. Go home.”
“Michael, call me later,” Allison said. “Even if it’s late. I can come over if you want. I’ll be up and I won’t go to sleep until I hear from you. Okay? Text me if you have to. Do you need my number?”
Michael gave her a surprised look. “No. I don’t need your number. And there’s no story here for you.”
He blew out a tired breath.
“What do you want me to do?” Connie asked.
“Go back to my house and wait there in case Elizabeth shows up.”
“I don’t have my car.”
“Take my car,” he said, handing her the keys.
Michael kicked at the pieces of cement and swung the ax again.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Elizabeth Ellen Stewart, Elizabeth Ellen Stewart.” Choruses of voices I don’t recognize sing my name.
I feel the wind hoist my feet, the feathery feel sweeping through my arms, my body hovering as I float high.
I drift to the heavens and I see Mommy and Daddy. They look a lot younger, especially Dad. He doesn’t have gray hair. They both look beautiful, standing in a packed church. Mommy and Daddy are giving each other shiny and sparkly rings.
Dad, you look handsome in a new suit and Mommy is so pretty in her long, white wedding dress. There you stand, happy, hopeful, and full of dreams. I’m so glad I was part of your dream.
Kiss her, Dad.
Wow, Dad, I’ve never seen you kiss a woman. I thought it would be gross. But it’s a beautiful sight. Can you kiss her again?
I float a bit higher. I can’t see them any longer.
Where did my dad go?
Oh, there he is, rocking a baby in his arms. Rocking and singing to the baby. That baby must be me. How lucky I am to be able to see you talking to me when I was so little.
You look sad, Dad. I know in my heart you were happy the day I was born, but it must have been so hard for you to be happy on the day Mom went to heaven. I was a lucky little girl to have you, Daddy, taking good care of me.
I float side to side as I head for the light up ahead, a light that sparkles much like the stars in the night sky. I hug Daddy as I float by. I can see a brilliant star shining, a light blue figure so big yet so far.
I now pass my third grade class. I’m in the school yard, giggling as my best friend sings my favorite song. I’m running around with my friends playing tag. My classmates smile, then fade away and now I see Dad smiling with pride as he watches me graduate middle school.
I see many fruits; big red apples and sunshine yellow pears, apricots and melons, the juices quench my thirst. A lavender smell fortifies me and flowers climb and surround me. Yellow and red roses stroke my face.
My head is free of pain, my legs ready to spring. I’m ready to run a race but don’t know where to go. How long is this journey, my Lord? Do I need to run faster?
I soar above heaven’s gate; a soft, soothing light pink light shines upon my face. I feel the warmth, unlike any I’ve ever felt. My skin feels tingly. I absorb the love in my soul. It burns. I need not listen to hear the Lord. His face, calm and assured, points to an angel who will hold me tight as I take a deeper flight. The angel is strong, her hands so firm. She’s smiling and singing my favorite songs. My angel gives me a tight hug as we arrive at our final stop. Her face turns Brandeis blue and tangerine. I reach for her and my arms shine like cherries hanging from a branch. A flute hums a familiar tune softly. “How much is that doggy in the window?” she sings. I laugh. Daddy, you sang that to me many times before I fell asleep.
The Angel leads me through this misty fog. Mom is waiting there for me. I see Grandma Rebecca too. She looks peaceful and happy. Their faces glow in light shades of blue. I wave to them and they tell me to sit still.
“Your worries are over, no more tears to cry, no more pain to mend, no more sorrow to console,” my Angel proclaims. “Tell your dad you are home.”
I’m finally home, Dad. I feel so warm. Mom is right next to me. She tells me she talks to you all the time. She says you need to listen more. She’s holding me, Dad. I wish you could hold us now.
I miss you, Dad. Thank you for loving me so much, for always being there. I do wish we could visit our favorite ice cream shop together one more time. I’m sorry I worried you sometimes when I was out so late. I’m sorry I didn’t clean my room when you asked. I’m sorry I left the lights on. I’m sorry when I fibbed about where I was going. I always loved you and always will.
I want to cry,
Dad, I really do, but where I am right now, there is no sadness, no regrets, no tears, no pain, no sorrow. I still miss you but I know I’ll see you again one day.
Please, Dad, try not to miss me or be sad like you were when Mom died, because then I will feel your pain and won’t be able to experience this eternal happiness. Remember, you will see us someday.
Some will tell you, Dad, my time was short. It wasn’t. I see many young people here. Younger than me. I’m luckier than a lot of people. I had a mother who gave her life for me and you, Dad, who made sacrifices and worked so hard to give me a happy home.
It’s time for me to leave, Dad. I’m safe now. I’ll see you again. There’s more work for you to do. This is what mom just told me. Then we’ll hug each other again. I love you, Daddy.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The strains of music chimed its last cords as Dennis ended the service. Michael stood outside his office and watched as his friend bid the congregation goodbye at the church’s front doors. Many in the crowd looked at Dennis with an inquiring expression. Some were blunt enough to ask why Michael came into church with an ax and if it was safe to return.
The latter question surprised Michael. I haven’t been the most social person around but I didn’t think these people who know me would think I’d be a danger to them. I don’t care if they think I’ve turned into a lunatic. That’s their problem, not mine. I have more important things to worry about.
Dennis dodged the inquiries with a smile and changed the subject each time Michael’s name came up. Michael felt remorseful that Dennis had to keep fielding questions and had to assure his churchgoers that there was no need for them to be alarmed.
I’ll have to apologize for putting him in this position.
Dennis opened his office door.
“I’m sorry for hacking at the floor.”
“Forget it. There isn’t a lot of damage.”
“I’m not very good with an ax.”
“I’m glad.” Dennis walked around his desk and sat. “Do you have a ride home?”
“I’ll walk. I’m feeling like a caged lion.”
“You need to stay in control.” He pulled out a bottle of wine. “Jesus drank wine. So can you.”
“Are you going to join me in a glass this time?”
Dennis grimaced. “I prefer water.” He avoided Michael’s stare and opened the black book. “Besides, one of us has to be stone cold sober in case you decide to lose it again.”
Michael dragged his hands down his face. “I’m not sure I can do that.”
“You have to.” Dennis leaned back in his chair. “People like me are not supposed to show weakness. We’re supposed to be strong, like some sort of religious superhero, never doubting when troubles confront us in this world, never losing direction with our faith.”
Michael shook his head. “You’re stronger than I am. Still don’t know how you do it sometimes.”
“I remember who is there for me no matter what problem I’m facing. If He isn’t, I get on my Harley and take a ride.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood a bit. He uncorked the bottle. The sweet fruit smell of the red wine tingled Michael’s senses. “We’re human too,” he said. “I worry like you. I have sadness like others. I get angry when some dope on the street calls me a child abuser. Do you know how that feels?”
“Who called you that?”
“It doesn’t matter who.” He poured a few ounces of wine into a glass. “I’ve spent most of my life trying to bring positive change in this world. I’ve had many sleepless nights worrying about those who can’t clothe and feed themselves, even some right here in our town.”
“Why do you continue to do this?”
Dennis handed Michael the glass. “Because I get to meet and help people like you.”
“But why me?” Michael asked, taking a sip of wine. “You’ve been there for me for so long. Even when I ignored you.”
Dennis didn’t answer.
“I don’t deserve it but thank you.”
“You do deserve it.” Dennis placed his bookmark inside a drawer. “I also hurt and become depressed at times.”
“When do you get depressed?”
“When a child runs away from me because his parents told him to stay away from bad people like me.”
“When did this happen?”
“Not too long ago. It was at my nephew’s birthday party.” He opened a bottle of water and took a sip. “I remember being so excited about seeing him. I had just returned from a missionary trip in Kenya. So it had been a while since we’ve been together. When he saw me arrive, the little guy ran over and jumped into my arms.
“One of his classmates came over and looked at me and said, ‘My daddy says you touch children in private places. Why are you touching Danny? My daddy says to stay away from bad people like you.’ Well, the boy ran away and my nephew cried. I put him down and walked out.”
“I’m sorry.”
Dennis crossed his leg and tented his fingers on his lap. “Have you ever looked at me and thought I may be a child molester?”
“I don’t think that way.”
“Well, you don’t because you’ve gotten to know me. How did you feel about me before that?”
Michael hesitated for a few seconds, weighing his thoughts. “I hadn’t gotten to know you as well as I do now.”
“You see, we all have preconceived notions of who people are and how they behave.”
“I didn’t make any assumptions about you in that way.”
“But you were suspicious?”
“Yeah, for a split second.” Michael shifted in his seat. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. You’re human. I’m human. I’ve made my share of mistakes.” He hung his head for a brief moment. “I felt so sorry for myself after my nephew’s birthday that I canceled a prayer meeting.” He took a gulp of water. “I sat in my bedroom staring at the walls, angry and bitter. I wanted to quit and even drafted a letter of resignation.”
Michael took another sip of wine to wet his parched throat. “Why didn’t you quit?”
“Because I remembered the night when I heard God’s call. It was shortly after I lost my wife and daughter.”
“Lost?”
“Well, my wife left me and took our daughter.”
“Why?”
Dennis pointed to the bottle of wine. “I drank too much. Lost my job, ignored my family and hit rock bottom.” He took another slow sip of his water. “Then while I was stumbling along one Christmas Eve I heard a choir singing Silent Night. I went in and sat in the last pew and listened to the words.
“I saw the happy faces in the church. Many came up to me and said hello. I don’t know why I happened to be walking on that street during that time. But there was a reason. Had to be.” He lowered his head. “It just had to be that God was asking me into His life despite my weaknesses.”
Michael took a few more sips and stopped. “I shouldn’t be doing this, too.”
“Doing what?”
“Drinking. I’m no different than my father or the creep who killed Vicki.”
Dennis’ face reddened and he cleared his throat. “It was terrible, I know.”
Michael felt the anger that still lingered in his gut, even after all these years, start to surface. “They should have fried the punk for driving drunk and plowing into my wife’s car.”
Dennis took a deep breath, wiped his forehead and took another sip of water. “Was he drunk? People make mistakes. We need to forgive.”
“Well, he wasn’t legally drunk. But so what?” Michael raised his voice. “I’m sitting here without my wife and now my daughter is missing. And you’re talking to me about forgiving the killer?”
“Killer is a bit extreme.”
“What?” Michael slammed the glass on the desk so hard, wine spilled out. “If I had the chance I’d flick the switch myself.”
“We’re getting off track here.”
Michael pushed the glass away. “Don’t offer me
any more wine.”
Dennis corked the bottle and stared at his water.
Michael got up and paced. “I’m not like you. I can’t be cool like you. I’m losing my mind. I want to rip that floor up piece by piece. I don’t even know why I was there. I know you said there’s always a reason when God opens up a path. I can’t figure it out.”
Dennis pulled out a notebook and pen. “Tell me what happened on the trip. Tell me what Jesus said about forgiveness and redemption. Tell me what your wife said.”
“My wife? Why?”
“Just tell me what Jesus said.”
Michael rubbed his forehead, tempering his urge to tell Dennis to stop repeating the same question about forgiveness. He knew Dennis was right. Michael had to stay calm. Getting into an argument with his friend wasn’t smart. After all, Dennis had the book. Perhaps by talking to him something might click.
As Michael regaled all that he had witnessed, Dennis scribbled his account of the time travel journey. Dennis seemed fascinated by the Sermon on the Mount Jesus delivered and peppered Michael with several questions. By the time he had finished his story, Dennis had filled half of the notebook.
Michael cleared his throat, his voice hoarse from talking. “Do you have any more water in there?” he asked, gesturing to the small fridge.
“Help yourself.”
Michael opened the small fridge and took out a bottle of water. After drinking half of it, he continued, “I tried to save Leah’s husband but I’m not sure if the cloth I used was given to me to save him. I thought I was back there to change this. But now I’m not sure.”
“Let’s see the cloth.”
Michael showed him.
“This is incredible,” Dennis said, seeming to lose his train of thought as he examined it.
“Now what do I do? How do I find Elizabeth?”
Dennis held the cloth close to his nose. “I need to review the book more. Maybe I can find a clue or a special message that can help you get back.”
“What if I can’t?”
The phone rang and Dennis held up a finger. “Hello. Yes. This is he. Okay. He’s here. Why? Sure, I’ll tell him.” He hung up the phone and rubbed his chin. “Are you sure you didn’t see Elizabeth at all today?”
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