Reverend Young closed his Bible and looked out on the congregation as though he was once again considering the meaning of these verses. “Yes, we are living in times of great darkness, but it is in the darkness that the light shines the brightest. Let us not lose hope. Let us not grow weary of praying for our enemies. God hears our prayers. He sustains us in our times of trouble. And He will guide us through these uncertain times as well. Please join me in praying for the people of Japan, as well as all the soldiers on both sides of this conflict, who have been injured or killed. Let us pray.”
As the congregation bowed their heads, Matthew mumbled something and stood. He slid past me and disappeared out the back of the sanctuary. Organ music filled the room. I tried to bow my head and pray, but I was worried about Matthew. So I scooted close to Mrs. Sawyer and asked her to fetch Hope from the nursery. Then I slipped out the back.
After a few minutes of searching, I found Matthew pacing the sidewalk on the west side of the church. His pacing led him in my direction, and he put up his hands to stop me before I could say a word. “I don’t want to hear it right now,” he said.
“Matthew—” I tried.
“I mean it, Grace. I don’t want a sermon from you too. The first one was bad enough.” He turned his back to me and walked several paces away. I waited for him to turn again. As he did, he met my gaze, threw his hands out and heaved a frustrated sigh. “I don’t understand,” he said.
“Understand what?”
“How can he pray for those people after everything they’ve done?”
“You mean the Japanese?”
“Yes! I mean the soulless animals who have tortured people in ways that were once unimaginable to me. Did you know that when they caught guerrilla operatives, they would shove nails under their fingernails? Then they would hold them down, force a hose down their throats, and fill their bellies with water until their stomach expanded. And then the real fun began! They’d take turns jumping up and down on their stomachs!”
“Matthew, please, stop.”
“That wasn’t even the worst of it. That was the gentler torture they used on women. After they raped them, of course. I don’t even have the words to describe what they did to the men. Maybe I should go back in that church and tell all those people in there exactly who they’re praying for!”
He kept on pacing, back and forth, his face growing red. I walked up to him and put my hands on his chest, looking up into his fiery eyes. “I know what they did, Matthew. Remember? I was there too. I saw it with my own eyes. You’re right. Many Japanese soldiers did unspeakable things. And they will answer for their actions.”
His chest heaved against my hands, and I could feel his heart racing. “Then how can you pray for them?”
“God tells us to pray for our enemies.”
He stepped back and looked at me like I was crazy. “What good does that do? Praying for them don’t undo all the evil they’ve brought on countless innocent people. I’m sorry, but if they’re suffering right now, it’s because they brought it on themselves. I don’t feel one lick of sympathy for ’em.”
“You’re right,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “Praying for them doesn’t change the past. It won’t bring back the friends we’ve lost. It won’t bring back Janine or Henry, or anyone else. It’s like I said before. Prayer doesn’t change God, it changes us.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He walked away from me again, but this time, he stopped with his back to me. “I just can’t get there in my mind. I can’t forget what they did.” He turned and faced me. “I can’t let go of it yet. I don’t know if I ever will.”
“Matthew, don’t harden your heart. Find something, even the smallest thing you can pray for. Maybe…for the children who are orphans now. Surely they don’t deserve this. Pray that God will change the hearts of the Japanese people, and they’ll come to know Jesus. Ask God to give you the forgiveness you can’t find inside yourself. There has to be some small place you can start. Don’t let this bitterness sink so deep inside you that it kills every ounce of hope and love you have. Because it’s a poison, and that’s exactly what it will do if you continue to let it fester in your heart.”
He shook his head and looked away, up at the sky, saying nothing for a few moments. I followed his gaze. Dark clouds were rolling in, as if summoned by his anger.
I didn’t know what else to say, so I prayed God would grant me wisdom, and I tried one last time to get through to him. “You’ve held on to so much anger for so long, that it’s swallowing you. Finding some way to forgive the people who’ve hurt you is the only way you’re ever going to find peace. And if you can’t, eventually, it will consume you, and you will be all alone.”
At last Matthew looked away from the storm clouds. He walked back to me, his expression softening. Taking my hands in his, he kissed the back of my palms. “I’ll try, all right? I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”
He pulled me into his arms, holding me close for a few moments. Behind me, I heard the growing hubbub as churchgoers filled the sidewalks. I didn’t want to move. I only wanted to stand there a while longer, trying to absorb Matthew’s pain. But a rumble of thunder warned us of an approaching storm.
I released him and took his hand. “We better find Mrs. Sawyer and Hope so we can beat this rain home.”
Matthew walked alongside me to the front of the church, and together we searched the crowd exiting the sanctuary. Soon, we saw Mrs. Sawyer come out holding Hope’s hand. I waved them over to us.
“We better get moving,” Mrs. Sawyer said. “There’s trouble brewing.”
Hope reached for my hand, and then took Matthew’s hand too. “Swing me!” she said.
“We have to hurry today,” I said to her. “We’ll swing you next time.”
Matthew picked her up, and we walked as quickly as we could without leaving Mrs. Sawyer behind. Just as we reached Alabama Street, the clouds opened, and the rain came down in sheets. There was only one block to go, so we began running.
I did my best to stay with Mrs. Sawyer while Matthew ran ahead with Hope. Mrs. Sawyer yelped as she nearly slipped.
I reached out and caught her, steadying her before we continued. “Be careful!” I said. “We’re almost there.”
She laughed and spread her arms. “Oh, it’s all right. I won’t melt!”
I took her arm and helped her across the last intersection. We passed the last two houses and turned onto the Sawyers’ walkway. That was when I noticed Matthew standing in front of me like a statue, still a good thirty feet from the porch. He still held Hope in his arms, but he stared at the Sawyers’ house like he didn’t even notice the rain pelting him.
“What are you doing?” I asked him. “Let’s get inside!”
He held his arm out to the side, blocking me from moving past him. Then he handed Hope to me. “Turn around!” he shouted.
“What?”
“Grace! Listen to me! Take Hope, turn around, and go back to the church. Do it now! Do not stop for anything or anyone. Go!”
The command in his voice left no room for questions. My gut told me to trust him, so I grabbed Hope from him. Beside me, Mrs. Sawyer looked at us like we’d lost our minds. I had no time to explain. “I…uh…I have to go back to the church,” I said.
“The church?” She splashed over to Matthew as rain continued to pour down all our faces. “What is going on here? And whose car is that in my driveway?”
I looked to my left and saw the black Ford that didn’t belong there. Dread slid down my throat, filling my stomach. Matthew looked over his shoulder, then back down at me. “Go to the church. I’ll come get you when it’s safe.”
I nodded, taking a quick glance over his shoulder. At the top of the stairs, two men awaited our approach. One was standing. The other was seated in a wheelchair.
Chapter Twenty
Matthew
August 12, 1945
Houston, Texas
Mrs. Sawyer was aghast. She turned
indignant eyes to me and raised her voice. “What on earth do you mean by sending them back to the church? They’re going to catch their death in this weather!”
“I don’t have time to explain,” I said, as Ruby and Hope hurried down the sidewalk and turned the corner. “I’ll go get them with the car as soon as I can.”
We continued up the walkway, and I took Mrs. Sawyer’s elbow as we climbed the front steps to the porch. She straightened and began wiping the water from her cloak. “Gracious! What a mess I’m in.” She unbuttoned and removed her cloak.
I stared at the two men waiting at the door. The one standing was a complete stranger. He was shorter than I was, but I could see that he was well built underneath his dark suit. He couldn’t have been much older than I was, maybe even a bit younger.
But it was the man in the wheelchair who held my attention. Although it had been nearly nine years since I last saw him, my father looked like he’d aged twenty. His expression was still as hard as ever, but the right side seemed slack, as if it might slide right off his skull any moment. As he looked up at me, his mouth twitched, and the left side slid up into a hideous half-smile.
Mrs. Sawyer finished removing her headscarf. “Well now, how can I help you gentlemen today?”
The stranger was the first to speak. “Yes ma’am. I’m Daniel Fisher, and this is my employer, Mr. Patrick Doyle.”
I had no intention of allowing Mrs. Sawyer to know any more about my life than necessary, so I interrupted. “Mrs. Sawyer, this gentleman is my father. If you’ll excuse us for a few minutes, I’ll speak with him and be right inside to dry off.”
“Your father?” she exclaimed. “Well then, please, come inside out of this weather!”
“He won’t be staying long,” I said, glaring down at him.
“Matthew, that’s just silly.” She wasn’t giving up. “I won’t hear of it. Now come inside, dry off, and take the car to go get Grace and Hope. I’ll get a nice dinner on the table so you all can visit.”
I pushed open the front door. “Mrs. Sawyer, can I speak to you inside for just a moment?”
She hesitated, a flustered expression creasing her forehead. “All right.” She stepped through the front door and hung her cloak and scarf on the coatrack while questioning me. “What in the world is going on? Why would you send your own father away? And why did you send Grace and Hope back to the church?”
“Listen, I don’t want to go into detail about my childhood and everything that man has put me through, so please just trust me on this. He is evil. He’s done despicable things that have nearly wrecked our lives. I want nothing to do with him, and if you knew him, you’d feel the same way.”
She glanced at the front door behind me, and then rubbed her hand down my shoulder. “Oh, Matthew. I’m sorry for your pain. I really am. I don’t want to interfere. But maybe you should at least talk to him and find out why he’s here? I’ll go upstairs and dry off. Why don’t you take your father and his friend to Mr. Sawyer’s study where you can speak in private? I promise you won’t be disturbed.”
“Thank you,” I said, genuinely moved by her concern. “I won’t be long. I’ll hear what he has to say, then I’ll go fetch Grace and Hope from the church.”
“There’s no need. I’ll ask Mr. Sawyer to drive me to the church with some dry clothes for them. We’ll bring them home in say, half an hour?”
I couldn’t imagine needing more than five minutes to tell Father to get out of my life for good. “That would be very helpful. Thank you.”
She gave me a sad smile. “You know, parents are human. We make mistakes, but we love our children fiercely. You may understand your father much better as you grow into a father yourself. It’s never an easy job.” As she walked over to the stairs, she called over her shoulder, “Stay there for a moment and I’ll bring you a towel.”
After changing into dry clothes, I led my unwelcome visitors to the study. Mr. Fisher wheeled Father to the center of the room, and stood just behind and to the right of him. I looked down at Father without an ounce of sympathy. He too deserved every drop of his suffering.
“You have five minutes,” I said. “Then I want you to leave and never come back.”
It was Mr. Fisher who spoke up. “Matthew, your father wants to begin by letting you know how deeply he regrets his actions during Miss Graves’s trial.”
“Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “Who exactly are you? And why can’t my father speak for himself?”
“I’m Daniel Fisher. You know my great-uncle, Dr. Melvin Fisher. He treated you when you had T.B.”
“I see. And Mr. Fisher, you’re here because…?”
“Please, call me Daniel. I’m employed by your father to be his full-time assistant. Your father’s stroke several years back left him with limited speech and mobility. I help him communicate with others, and I’ve been working with him physically to help restore better movement for him.”
“So he’s told you what to say to me?”
“He has a small chalkboard that he can write symbols on for me to communicate for him. We’ve worked out a good system over the years.”
“Can he understand me?”
“Yes. He can understand language and even form words in his head. He just can’t move his mouth to form the words he wants to say.”
I glanced down at Father, whose ghastly expression must have been some form of hope and sorrow. “Listen,” I said directly to Father. “What you did to me, to Ruby and her family, is unforgivable. I said it before I left, and I’ll say it again now. I do not want to have anything to do with you ever again. If you think I’ll have some sympathy for you now because you’re stuck in a wheelchair, then you’re delusional. I’m glad you regret what you did, but it won’t change anything. It won’t change the path my life took because of you. It won’t erase the years I spent fighting for my life, running from deranged Japanese soldiers who wanted to capture me and torture me until my dying breath. It won’t erase my nightmares. Nothing you can say or do will change anything. So take your wheelchair and your assistant, and get out of my life for good.”
I turned and opened the door to the study just as an awful noise came out of Father, a garbled sound of agony. Despite my hatred of him, it stopped me. I turned back to him, and he made a hand signal to Daniel. He pulled out a chalkboard from the back of the wheelchair and handed it to Father. Father scribbled something with his left hand, and then Daniel looked up at me and translated.
“He says you’re right. He knows you can’t forgive him.” He looked back down while Father scribbled some more. “He just wanted to see you with his own eyes.” He glanced down and back up again. “His heart was filled with joy when he learned you were alive.”
I didn’t know what to say. Seeing Father, a man who’d once commanded respect and fear from others, reduced to a garbling cripple was disconcerting. Some small part of me did feel something for him still. But it wasn’t enough.
“All right,” I said. “I’ve heard you out. Now it’s time for you to go.”
Daniel stared at me wide-eyed. “Are you really going to just turn him away? Do you know what he’s been through? To what lengths he’s gone to find you?”
“You don’t know anything about me or what he’s done. Don’t stand there and lecture me.”
“I apologize if I’m overstepping my bounds here, but Mr. Doyle has agonized over losing you for years. He only wants to do what he can to make your life better from this point forward.”
“Wonderful,” I said. “That’s quite simple. All he has to do is leave me alone.” I gestured to the door. “And he can begin that right now.”
Father scribbled something again. Daniel reached for a satchel tucked in beside Father that I hadn’t noticed until then. He pulled out a folder and handed it to me. “These are documents your father wants you to look through. Take your time. You can even consult a lawyer if you wish. We’ll be staying at the Shamrock downtown for several days. Once you’ve looked through these,
give me a call so we can discuss how you wish to proceed.”
I raised a hand in protest, refusing to take the folder. “I don’t want anything to do with him. Nothing in that folder interests me.”
“I believe you’ll change your mind once you see what’s in there.”
I glanced at the clock on the wall. Soon the Sawyers would return with Ruby and Hope. I decided it would be most expedient to take the folder, though I had no intention of looking at it. “Fine. I’ll take it. But don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from me.”
I took the folder from him and to my relief, Daniel stepped behind the wheelchair and pushed Father out of the study. I walked behind them around the stairs and to the front door, opening it for them. I didn’t bother looking at Father as his chair rolled past me. Nor did I bother helping Daniel carry him down the stairs. He placed Father in the passenger seat of the car and came back for the wheelchair. As he reached for the chair, he paused and looked up at me.
“Matthew, your father has told me about what he did, how he’s hurt you, and how much he regrets interfering in your life. It may seem impossible, but those papers come as close as a man can possibly get to changing the past. Give him a chance.”
He folded the chair and lifted it, carrying it out to the Ford and placing it into the trunk. I watched to make sure the car left, and closed the door. I walked into the living room and tossed the folder onto the coffee table. Grabbing two beers from the kitchen fridge, I dropped onto the sofa and started on the first. What was I going to do now?
Abiding Hope: A Novel: Healing Ruby Book 4 Page 21