Life Everlasting

by Robert Whitlow

  “Liar.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to talk to him?”

  Alexia sighed. Totally avoiding Ted was not a long-term solution.

  “Alright,” she said.

  She waited for the call to come through.

  “Just checking about tonight,” Ted said cheerily. “Do you want to ride together? I could pick you up.”

  “Uh, I’m in the opposite direction. It would make more sense for me to pick you up.”

  “I know, but it will be late.”

  Ted didn’t sound like a man wanting to distance himself from her.

  “Okay,” she said. “Do you remember the road that leads to my house?”

  “Pelican Point Drive.”

  “That’s right. Go to the end of the road and turn left on the driveway that runs along the marsh. I’ll have a light on.”

  “I’ll be there at eleven thirty.”

  Alexia paused. “Will Sarah Locklear be on duty tonight?”

  “I haven’t talked to her, but that’s what I understand from the agency. I hope she’s there, but even if she isn’t, I still want to play. You and I can do it together.”

  Feeling ten times better about Ted Morgan, Alexia hung up and walked across the hall to Gwen’s office.

  “Got a date?” the secretary asked. “The watermelon story was bogus, but he still sounded like a man on a mission.”

  “We’re getting together at eleven thirty tonight. He’s coming to my house.”

  Gwen’s jaw dropped open. “Now you’re the liar.”

  Alexia shook her head. “It’s the truth. You’re welcome to hide in the downstairs bedroom and see if he shows up. He suggested it, and I agreed.”

  Gwen narrowed her eyes. “And then what?”

  “We have plans. But you wouldn’t understand. I’ll let you know tomorrow how it goes.”

  Alexia returned to her office, closed the door, and counted to ten. Then she opened the door and looked across the hall. Gwen’s chair was empty. Alexia chuckled. The secretary had probably scurried down the hall to find Rachel Downey.

  Boris signaled Ted’s arrival long before the doorbell rang. The dog, barking wildly, ran back and forth across the living room. Alexia flung open the door and saw the approaching headlights. She waved as Boris bolted past her. The lights stopped and began to back up. Alexia started down the front steps. Boris reached the vehicle and ran up to the driver-side door.

  “Come on! This is the place!” she called out.

  The lights continued to recede. Alexia reached the bottom of the steps as the vehicle backed into the sand and turned around. It wasn’t Ted’s truck. It was a blue car. Alexia ran back up the stairs.

  “Boris! Come!” she yelled from the landing in front of her door.

  The dog continued barking at the slow-moving car. The driver turned off the lights as he headed away, and Alexia couldn’t see the license plate. A hundred yards down the road, the driver flipped on the lights and veered right onto Pelican Point Drive. Alexia slammed the front door shut and locked the dead bolt. She switched off the lights in the living room, went into the kitchen, and peered out the darkened window. A vehicle was approaching the house. She could see Boris’s dark shape running down the road beside it. Closer it came; this time without slowing down. When it came under the spotlight on the corner of the house, she could see it clearly.

  Ted’s white truck.

  Alexia closed her eyes for a few seconds and commanded her heart to slow down. Taking several deep breaths, she returned to the living room, unlocked the front door, and stepped onto the landing. Ted was standing beside his truck letting Boris smell the back of his hand. He looked up and smiled.

  “I’m letting Boris make sure I’m friendly.”

  Alexia leaned against the railing at the top of the steps.

  “Are you ready to go?” Ted asked.

  “Uh, yes. I need to get my purse and put Boris in the house.”

  Boris obediently pattered up the steps and past her into the house. Alexia closed and locked the door. She left the lights on in the living room.

  “Are you tired?” Ted asked when she reached the bottom of the steps.

  Alexia shook her head. “No, let’s go.”

  Ted opened the door for her. “You have a beautiful house.”

  Alexia didn’t respond, but as soon as Ted was behind the wheel, she asked, “Did you see the blue car that passed you at the turn for Pelican Point Drive?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you see how many people were in it?”

  “No, I didn’t pay that much attention to it.”

  “When it approached the house I thought it was you, so I ran down the steps, waving,” Alexia replied. “When the driver stopped and turned around, I realized that it wasn’t your truck. He backed up and turned off his lights until he reached Pelican Point Drive.”

  “So you couldn’t see the license plate?”

  “Right.”

  “The vehicle you mentioned the other day was a van, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, but there isn’t any reason for someone to be on this road at midnight without headlights.”

  Ted turned onto Highway 17. “Unless they’d taken a wrong turn.”

  “Which happens,” Alexia admitted. “But since the van forced me off the road . . .”

  Ted drove toward Santee in silence for a few moments.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Still a bit shaky. I’m glad you arrived when you did. Boris makes a lot of noise, but he’s not a protector.”

  They reached the edge of town and the deserted streets of Santee. They parked in front of the cottage next to the dark Richardson house. Alexia started to open the door of the truck.

  “Wait,” Ted said, touching her arm. “Let’s pray. I don’t want you to walk into the cottage feeling afraid.”

  “Okay, but I’m not sure what to pray.”

  “I’ll do it.” Ted kept his eyes open. “Father, I ask you to touch Alexia and take away all fear. Cleanse her soul from the effects of this attack upon her peace and security. Reassure her that you are her strong defense against every kind of enemy who would attack her. Restore and refresh her by the ministry of the Holy Spirit. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.”

  As Ted prayed, Alexia let out a deep breath, and the inner tension relaxed.

  “Thanks,” she said. “It worked.”

  Ted grinned. “That’s encouraging. It’s supposed to work.”

  Inside the cottage, Baxter lay on his side with his face away from the door. Sarah Locklear peeked out from the kitchen at the sound of their entrance. Her dark hair was on her shoulders, and she was wearing light-blue scrubs. Ted set his keyboard on a chair beside Baxter’s bed and greeted Sarah with a quick hug. Alexia glanced at the floor; her uneasiness returned.

  “How is he?” Ted asked Sarah.

  “Better. He’s showing signs of improving mental ability—awareness of his environment, responding to commands, simple word phrases. When he tries to talk, it’s jumbled, but at least he’s making the effort. He’s complained of headaches, which is not a bad sign. The fact that he comprehends the presence of pain and where it’s located is positive.”

  Curious, Alexia stepped closer to the bed. “Has he talked tonight?” she asked.

  “When I came on duty he was alert. His eyes were open, and he turned his head to watch me cross the room. He asked for a sip of water, but he’s been sleeping most of the time since.”

  Thinking about the visit from Giles Porter, Alexia probed further. “Has he been able to respond to questions about events in the past?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but I haven’t seen it. He may have a surge in improvement and then lose ground. I didn’t see anything in the notes indicating that he understands the seriousness of his condition. That will raise another category of issues.”

  “Depression?” Ted asked.

  Sarah nodded. “And other things.”

  Ted connected th
e power cord to the keyboard. “Where is the nurse’s aide?”

  “She called in sick, and the agency couldn’t find a replacement. I can handle the shift by myself.” She looked at her watch. “My relief won’t be here for about seven hours, so I’m not in a hurry, although you two may want to go to bed before the sun rises.”

  Ted turned on the keyboard. “I’m here for as long as it takes to do what we need to do.”

  “Me too,” Alexia replied in a voice that even convinced herself.

  Alexia retreated to a chair on the opposite side of the room where she had a clear view of Baxter’s face. At the moment, he didn’t looked troubled or in pain. Ted spoke.

  “Healing and hope is the theme on my heart. Healing for now and hope for the future.”

  Sarah picked up a worn black Bible and turned the pages. She stopped and began to read.

  “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”

  “Yes,” Ted answered.

  The minister began to play. Alexia had heard Ted play different types of music, but the sounds directed toward heaven on behalf of Baxter Richardson were unique. The keyboard might be cheap, but the intention rich. As she listened, Alexia could visualize the notes coming together in a purposeful pattern. After a few minutes, Sarah joined in with her vibrant alto voice.

  “Lord, you have a plan,” she sang. “For this man, Lord, you have a plan.”

  Over and over, the nurse repeated the words, calling forth a strategy born in the will of God.

  It took time for Ted to build musical momentum that encompassed the breadth of hope. Back and forth, Ted and Sarah went until the sounds exploded in shouts of triumph from Sarah and powerful chords from Ted that summoned healing for Baxter’s body, mind, and spirit. A stranger walking into the room at that moment might have stepped back in apprehension, but the sounds elicited intuitive agreement from Alexia.

  She harbored mixed emotions toward Baxter. After all, the young man had tried to kill his wife, and his current physical status smacked of divine justice. Yet, somehow, as she listened to the music, Alexia couldn’t rule out the possibility that God would reveal a purpose for Baxter down the road and around the bend. It was a staggering prospect. She ceased being an observer and began to long for a miracle. Chills ran over her. She watched Baxter’s face. The music and singing had no apparent effect on him.

  The nurse sang about prosperity, not in the financial sense, but a spiritual richness only God could provide. Ted added notes that piled up like stacks of heavenly coinage. They transitioned through the rest of the verse into the theme of protection. Several times Alexia closed her eyes. Each time she opened them, she looked at Baxter, who remained unaware. The music began to subside.

  But not all at once. A few more roaring breakers washed over the room. Ted stayed in the upper reaches of the keyboard, musically standing on tiptoe to push the notes as close to heaven as possible. Sarah didn’t sing; she stopped, raised her face to the ceiling, and lifted her hands in the air. Alexia suspected Ted and Sarah were in a place she’d never been, but the atmosphere in the room didn’t tolerate jealousy. She sat as quietly as possible until the last note faded beyond the realm of hearing. Ted bowed his head for several seconds and then turned off the keyboard.

  “That’s it,” he said.

  Sarah lowered her hands and stepped closer to Baxter. She reached over and brushed his hair away from his forehead.

  “He’s hot,” she said. “I’d better take his temperature.”

  She returned with a digital thermometer. Alexia stood on the opposite side of the bed. If Baxter was warm, he wasn’t perspiring. He looked at peace. Sarah checked the reading.

  “Ninety-eight point six.” She looked across the bed at Alexia. “Touch his head.”

  Alexia rested her hand on Baxter’s forehead.

  “Wow, how can that be? He’s on fire!”

  Ted leaned forward and placed his hand on the spot Alexia had touched.

  “It’s a sign of anointing,” he replied simply. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with him. The presence of the Lord is so strong upon him that it’s generating heat. The Bible says the Holy Spirit can be like fire.”

  “How long will it last?” Alexia asked.

  “I don’t know. But that’s encouraging. Maybe the Lord decided to send a message that we are on the right track.”

  Sarah smiled. “Thank you, Lord.”

  Ted and Alexia left the cottage after 1:00 AM. Ted, in the world of his own thoughts, didn’t speak. Alexia didn’t either, until they turned onto Pelican Point Drive.

  “That was probably my last chance to go to the cottage with you,” she said.

  “Why?” Ted asked in surprise.

  “I shouldn’t mention this until the papers are delivered to the clerk’s office in the morning, but Rena is going to file for divorce. Once that happens and Baxter’s father hires a lawyer, the ethical rules prohibit my contact with Baxter outside the presence of his attorney.”

  “But Baxter doesn’t even know you’re there.”

  “It doesn’t matter. He might say or do something that she could use against his interests in court.”

  Ted frowned. “Why is she filing for divorce?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  Ted’s voice took on an edge. “I guess she didn’t take seriously the vows at their wedding to stay married ‘for better or for worse,’ and ‘in sickness and in health.’”

  Alexia bristled. “She has legitimate reasons that have nothing to do with Baxter’s condition. If I didn’t think so, I wouldn’t have agreed to represent her.”

  “Whatever he’s done in the past, he’s helpless now.”

  “True, but powerful family dynamics drive this situation. Rena needs to escape.”

  “That’s what my wife thought too.”

  Alexia glanced at Ted’s silhouette. “No, it’s not the same. I can’t tell you Baxter and Rena’s history, but if I could, I don’t think you’d condemn her.”

  “I’m not condemning her, but it’s a decision that has no end. It affects the rest of life.”

  They reached Alexia’s house. Ted turned off the engine. A full moon passing across the night sky cast light into the cab. Half of Alexia’s face was in shadow, half in the light. Ted spoke.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do the things you know about Baxter and Rena affect your ability to pray for his healing?”

  “It’s been an issue,” Alexia admitted. “But I’ve decided that if I want God to have mercy on me, I can’t tell him not to have mercy on Baxter.”

  “Quid pro quo.”

  Alexia smiled. “Spoken like a lawyer. I’ll never forget the feeling of overwhelming love I experienced when God touched me in your backyard. I wish everyone could have the same kind of encounter, no matter what they’ve done. If I thought otherwise, it would cheapen what happened to me.”

  “Okay,” Ted replied.

  “So I’m glad Baxter baked in heavenly heat while you played and Sarah sang. If that’s the way God wants to touch him, I won’t disagree. I don’t understand it, but I guess that’s not the most important thing.”

  “You know what?” Ted asked, his voice softening.

  “Tell me.”

  “You’re a remarkable woman.”

  Ted leaned forward and kissed her before Alexia realized what he was going to do. She received the kiss but didn’t respond.

  “Good night,” she said.

  “I’ll stay here until you signal that everything is alright.”

  “Uh, thanks.”

  Alexia climbed the steps and unlocked the front door. The only living creatures in the house were two sleepy pets that belonged there. She stepped back to the door and waved.

  This time, the correct person waved back.

  25

  Oh, what a tangled web we weave.


  SIR WALTER SCOTT

  Rena, sitting in a high-backed leather chair near the Palmetto Club’s main dining room, waited nervously for Ezra to arrive. Half a bagel topped with cream cheese and a cup of coffee constituted a big breakfast for her, and the massive spread at the private club held no appeal. Ezra had designated the site for their meeting, and Rena didn’t protest, even though it meant getting up at 6:30 AM to drive to the outskirts of Charleston.

  It cost tens of thousands to join the club, and thousands a year to remain a member. Dues covered a certain amount of food, but Ezra Richardson’s membership bought him something more valuable. Rena knew the large dining and smoking rooms were watering holes for the kind of big game Ezra hunted—businessmen and investors looking for opportunities to collaborate and earn even more money. Most cared less about spending money than about crafting a venture that netted an enviable profit.

  A member of the wait staff dressed in white with a blue bow tie deftly balanced a large tray on his right hand and made his way to a private dining room. His feet made no noise on the thick carpeting. Rena looked again at her watch. Her father-in-law was fifteen minutes late. The possibility that he’d been called away on more important business crossed her mind. A hand touched her shoulder, and she jumped.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Ezra said. “I saw someone on the way in, and we had a brief chat in the bar. It’s the best place for privacy at this time of the morning.”

  “That’s okay,” Rena replied. “This is a nice place to wait.”

  Ezra was wearing an open-collar shirt, slacks, and expensive black shoes. Rena had taken time to make sure she looked as classy as possible. She’d swept her blonde hair away from her face and slipped on a stylish yet conservative dress that would meet with Ezra’s approval. Wearing a nice dress to breakfast was not customary for the female inhabitants of the ramshackle five-room house in Nichol’s Gap where Rena grew up.

  “Have you had a cup of coffee?” Ezra asked.

  “No, I waited for you.”

  Ezra raised his hand, and a waiter quickly approached.

  “Good morning, Robert. Do you have a table for two by a window?”

  “Yes, Mr. Richardson. Please follow me.”