by T. K. Chapin
“What is it?” I asked, putting the truck into drive. We began down the street toward his house.
“Charlie’s going to be mad . . .” he said as we came up to his house.
Slowing down as I pulled over to the curb in front of his house, I asked, “Why?”
“I was gone a long time,” William replied. A kid out on his own wasn’t okay, but this Charlie guy seemed to be rather uninvolved, and if he was hitting the kid, it made sense why he didn’t want to be around the house.
Putting the truck in park, I turned to him. “William.”
He looked over at me for a second before turning his head back to the floor of the truck. He began sobbing again. “William,” I said again.
He looked at me with his big brown eyes and asked, “What?”
“I’m going to ask you something and I need you to be honest.”
“Okay.”
“Does Charlie hit you?”
He shook his head and looked out the window toward his house. “If I say anything they’ll take me away and I’ll be all alone.”
“Who will? What are you talking about?”
He began crying uncontrollably.
Placing a hand on his shoulder, I said, “What’s wrong? You can talk to me.”
“He does hit me! Okay?” William lashed out. “But the mean people with coats will take me away and make me live with someone I don’t know if they find out. I don’t want them to take me!” He began crying into his hands. “I don’t want to be alone.”
My anger kindled inside of me as I looked over at the house. I didn’t agree with William walking around on the beach alone, but no child ever deserved to be beaten. “I’m going to talk to Charlie.”
“No!” he pleaded as he looked me. “Please don’t talk to him! He’ll hit me more.”
“Let me walk you up to the door.”
“No!” he shouted and jumped out of the truck, slamming the door behind him. Slipping slightly on the ice on his way up the sidewalk, he caught himself and continued up to the door and went inside.
I was torn on what to do. Going to the Lord in prayer, I began praying for Charlie and William. I prayed He would protect William from harm. Then suddenly I heard a crash come from inside the house. Stopping my prayer, I looked over. I couldn’t see anything, but I heard another crash inside. Then the light went out that was previously shining through the curtains in the front of the house.
“What is going on in there?” I asked out loud to myself, getting out of the truck. Adrenaline began coursing through me as my heart began to race and I approached the house. There was no way I was going to willingly drive away knowing that man was mostly likely hurting that boy. Walking up to the house, I tried to see through the curtains but it was dark. A back door swung open and I heard William crying from behind the house. Running, I rounded the corner of the house just as Charlie raised a belt above his head and William lay shaking on the deck.
“Hey!” I shouted.
Charlie turned to me and lowered his hands down to his sides. He glared toward me and said through his teeth, “Why don’t you mind your own business?”
“I’m not going to let you hurt that child.”
Charlie laughed and came to the edge of the deck where a set of stairs sat. Looking down at me with a worn smile, he asked, “How you plan to do that? You’re on my property.”
My jaw clenched as I took a step forward, closer to the steps that led up to him. He took a step down and began wrapping the belt around his balled fist. “After I get done with you, I’m going to give Willy a lesson in manne—”
I lost all control over myself and lunged toward him. He moved over and I missed, sending myself face first into the deck.
As I pushed myself off the deck to get up, I heard the sound of a gun clicking behind me. “Get off my property!” Charlie shouted as I stood up.
I turned around and he circled around me with the gun pointed at my face. Glancing over at William, he said, “Get inside, boy!”
William scrambled up from the deck and ran into the house through the back door.
“I don’t want any trouble,” I said as my eyes fixated on the barrel that was pointed my way.
“You better get off my property in the next five seconds, or I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.”
I inched myself backward and off the deck, hands up in the air. My heart was pounding as I watched Charlie go inside and I could hear the deadbolt on the door lock. Hurrying back around the house and out to my truck, I could hear screams coming from inside the house, causing the knot in my chest to turn.
Getting into my truck, I clenched my jaw as I looked over at the house. My eyes fell on the address –7554. Turning the key over, I began driving. Phoning the police, I explained to the woman at dispatch what had happened.
“Can you have the officer who goes over there to call me afterwards?” I asked as I pulled into my driveway.
“Sure,” the woman replied.
“Thank you.” Breathing a sigh of relief, I hung up and looked out my passenger side window to spot Joe taking the trash out to the curb. I wondered if he knew anything about Charlie beating on William.
Getting out of my truck, I jogged down the sidewalk and caught Joe before he made it back into his house.
“Hey, Joe!” I shouted as I paused to catch my breath in his driveway.
“Hey,” he replied, coming back off his porch. Walking over to me, he asked, “Are you okay?”
Shaking my head as I stood upright, I said, “No.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s William. Listen—do you know Charlie?”
“Charlie Prescott? Well, yeah. He’s one of the deacons at Christ Community. Why?”
“I’m pretty confident he’s beating William.”
Joe’s composure shifted immediately as he adjusted his footing and furrowed his eyebrows. “You’re mistaken.”
“No. I was just over there and—”
“I said you’re mistaken.”
“Why are you—” My phone buzzed in my pocket, it was an unknown local number. I assumed it was the police. Holding a finger up to Joe for a moment, I turned and answered it.
“Is this the gentleman that called in a report on a possible child abuse issue?”
“Yep. Did you go over there and get Charlie?”
“What’s your address, Mr. Freeman?”
“616 Canal Dr.”
“I’ll be over in a few minutes to talk to you.”
Click.
Turning back around to Joe, he looked upset.
“You’d better not go accusing a deacon of child abuse, Micah. Or you’re going to have some wrath coming.”
“I don’t care if he is a deacon. If there is foul play, he needs to be brought to justice.”
“I’ve known Mr. Prescott for many, many years. He’d never lay a hand on a child in a non-Biblical disciplinary way. He probably just spanked him.” Joe took a step closer to me. “And there ain’t anything wrong with spankings.”
I raised my hands and took a step back. “I agree with spanking children.” Looking back toward my house, I knew I needed to get back. “A policeman is coming over to my house. I need to get back home.”
“Okay. Don’t chase an idea because you think you know something. You don’t want to hurt a brother in Christ.”
“I’m not trying to hurt anyone. I’m trying to protect the child.”
“Just be careful, that’s all I’m trying to say.” Joe went inside his house and slammed the door behind him.
Why was Joe so protective of Charlie? Maybe the history they had between them, I thought to myself as I walked down the sidewalk and back toward the house. Getting halfway up my driveway, the police cruiser showed up.
“Good evening, Officer,” I said with a nod as he stepped out of his car.
“Evening,” he replied. Stepping onto the sidewalk, he looked over at my house.
“Let’s go inside and talk,” I said.
He agreed with a nod and we went inside and sat down in the living room. As the officer got comfortable on the couch, I offered him a drink. “I have coffee, water or juice.”
“No, thank you.”
“Okay,” I replied and came and sat down next to the officer on the couch.
“Your story here says you went to drop off the eight-year-old boy named William and when you were about to leave the curb of the house, you heard shouting and a light went off inside. You went to investigate and saw Charlie about to beat William with a belt, but you interrupted it by dashing over to him and trying to tackle Charlie.”
“Yes.”
“Okay. And then he threatened you with a gun?”
“Yep.”
“Well, I collected a different story from Mr. Prescott and William.”
“You saw William?” I asked, leaning in. “Was he okay?”
“He had a bruise on his eye he got from falling down and hitting an end table. Then a large gash that looked fairly recent, but William even said he was just being clumsy.”
“He’s lying!” I shouted, jumping to my feet. “Both of them. Don’t you get it? The kid is scared he’ll be taken away.”
The officer’s eyebrows furrowed as he rose to his feet. “We’ll keep investigating, but you should leave this investigation work to us.” He turned and headed for the door.
I walked with him and opened the door.
“Give me a call if you see anything that you’re worried about,” the officer said, handing me a business card.
“Thanks,” I replied, shutting the door.
CHAPTER 14
After a sleepless night, I woke up and headed out to beach right away so I could speak with William about what had happened last night. I wanted to see if he was okay. The chilly April morning wind was gusting as I walked the sandy coastline that morning. Traveling up and down the beach several times, I couldn’t see William. My worry began to soar as I made my way to the portion of the beach just outside their property.
Looking up toward the green house beyond the sand dunes and tall grass, I tried to see through the windows that were facing the ocean side, but I couldn’t see anything.
Where was William? Did Charlie not let him come out to walk this morning? The thoughts circled my mind as I walked back toward the entrance to the beach I had come down through.
Getting back up to my house, I sat down at the kitchen table and began to pray.
Help me, Lord, I don’t know what to do. Please protect William.
My phone rang, interrupting my prayer. It was Denise.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” she said. “You okay? I didn’t hear from you last night.”
“Got some drama going on. That kid I met on the beach is getting beaten, I’m pretty sure.”
“How’d that end up being your issue? I’m sorry if that sounded rude. I’m just confused.”
My eyebrows furrowed as I felt almost offended by the comment. “What do you mean? He’s the kid I met on the beach the other day that I told you about. If he’s being abused, then he needs out of the situation, Denise.”
She began crying.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just worried about him.”
“No . . . It’s good you’re trying to protect him and watch out for the kid.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
She sniffled and took a deep breath. “I’m just sitting in this empty house alone and can’t stop thinking about Jasmine. Sure, I’m feeling better, but I still have my moments . . .”
Suddenly, like an ocean wave crashing up on the shore, all the grief and pain with the loss of Jasmine came rushing back over me. I had been so distracted by this boy and his problems that I had almost forgotten about Jasmine. I felt guilty and ashamed. “I’m sorry,” I said in a soft tone.
Then she asked a question that jarred me and forced me to think. “You sure you aren’t just chasing this boy and his problems to avoid your own?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Was I doing that? Was I fixating on this kid to help avoid my own emotional turmoil over the loss of my daughter? I wasn’t entirely sure, but it sounded likely.
“Just be careful. You could mess up lives by injecting yourself where you don’t belong. And some day this drama will be over and you’ll still have to deal with the loss of Jasmine, if you are in fact avoiding it by keeping distracted by the boy.”
My lips pressed together to form a thin line at the realization she was right. My wife was truly my help mate for life. She sharpened me and helped me be the man of God I needed to be. If it wasn’t for her continuous help, I wouldn’t be the man of God I had become over the years. She had an ability to shine light on an issue I didn’t even see.
Relaxing and taking a deep breath, I said, “Thank you, Denise.”
“Get in your Bible. You’re there to get right with God, not right the wrongs in the world.”
“You’re right.” Standing up from the table, I walked over to the couch in the living room and sat down. “How you holding up over there?”
“Pretty good. I found a grief support group with one of the neighboring churches. Pam Aldridge is the leader.”
“Oh, I remember her. She ran that Christmas Dinner a few years back.”
“Yeah. She met with me yesterday for lunch and we had a good cry.”
“She lost a kid?”
“Mmhmm . . . It was about twelve years ago. She lost her four-year-old boy. He ran into oncoming traffic just outside a restaurant and was hit by a truck.”
“That is terrible . . .”
“Yeah. She said she was messed up for a long time. She pointed out that I could still have hope-filled joy because of God, and cautioned me that happiness depends on your circumstances; joy depends on God and my relationship with Him. She told me a lot of helpful things about how to deal with my new life and I felt for the first time like someone understood me.”
“I’m happy you are finding relief and help.”
“It’s a long journey, but I can tell I’m already beginning to feel better.”
“Good,” I replied. Knowing my wife was on the right path brought me comfort. Looking over to the kitchen, I saw the Bible sitting on the counter. “I’m going to dive into some scripture.”
I could hear a smile on the other end of the line. “Good. I’ll let you go do that.”
Hanging up, I headed over to the kitchen and grabbed my Bible. Returning to the living room, I sat down and opened the Scriptures. I went straight to reading the next chapter of Job.
Job 28
There is a mine for silver
and a place where gold is refined.
2 Iron is taken from the earth,
and copper is smelted from ore.
3 Mortals put an end to the darkness;
they search out the farthest recesses
for ore in the blackest darkness.
4 Far from human dwellings they cut a shaft,
in places untouched by human feet;
far from other people they dangle and sway.
5 The earth, from which food comes,
is transformed below as by fire;
6 lapis lazuli comes from its rocks,
and its dust contains nuggets of gold.
7 No bird of prey knows that hidden path,
no falcon’s eye has seen it.
8 Proud beasts do not set foot on it,
and no lion prowls there.
9 People assault the flinty rock with their hands
and lay bare the roots of the mountains.
10 They tunnel through the rock;
their eyes see all its treasures.
11 They search the sources of the rivers
and bring hidden things to light.
12 But where can wisdom be found?
Where does understanding dwell?
13 No mortal comprehends its worth;
it cannot be found in the land of the living.
&nbs
p; 14 The deep says, “It is not in me”;
the sea says, “It is not with me.”
15 It cannot be bought with the finest gold,
nor can its price be weighed out in silver.
16 It cannot be bought with the gold of Ophir,
with precious onyx or lapis lazuli.
17 Neither gold nor crystal can compare with it, nor can it be had for jewels of gold.
18 Coral and jasper are not worthy of mention;
the price of wisdom is beyond rubies.
19 The topaz of Cush cannot compare with it;
it cannot be bought with pure gold.
20 Where then does wisdom come from?
Where does understanding dwell?
21 It is hidden from the eyes of every living thing,
concealed even from the birds in the sky.
22 Destruction and Death say,
“Only a rumor of it has reached our ears.”
23 God understands the way to it
and he alone knows where it dwells,
24 for he views the ends of the earth
and sees everything under the heavens.
25 When he established the force of the wind
and measured out the waters,
26 when he made a decree for the rain
and a path for the thunderstorm,
27 then he looked at wisdom and appraised it;
he confirmed it and tested it.
28 And he said to the human race,
“The fear of the Lord—that is wisdom,
and to shun evil is understanding.”
Bowing my head, I prayed for God to write the verses on my heart and to infuse my being with the Scriptures, especially with the last few verses, which outlined God’s power and strength. The Lord decreed the rain and set the path for the thunderstorms, yet I had the nerve to question His plan? I had no right.
Then a realization of the truth came to me as I prayed.
That inner voice that kept telling me I couldn’t do it before was correct all along. I couldn’t do anything. It was God, who lived within me, that could do it. I wasn’t part of the equation, only a vessel for the solution. My eyes filled with tears as I dropped my chin to my chest and slid off the couch and onto my knees. Crying out as I brought my hands together on the coffee table in front of me, I said, “God, please forgive me. I was trying to do this all on my own, without realizing YOU are the only one that can do it. It’s through Your power alone that my heart can be healed. I might never fully understand why Jasmine had to die, but I know You have a plan for good and that Jasmine is with You now. Help me to rely on You alone. Amen.”