Never Ending Spring

by Darrell Case

  Behind the school is a huge playground. When the school was built five years ago, the board wanted children to use the town park but the parents argued against it, saying they were concerned about their children crossing the street. After several meetings, the school board relented and the school playground was built.

  On the east is Clem's Hardware, actually owned by Clem's son, Harry Blackburn. Harry never changed the sign after Clem's death ten years ago. When asked why, Harry says, "Dad worked so hard to build this business, his name deserves to be on the building."

  Next to the hardware is T.J.'s Grocery, owned by Mildred's brother, Tom Hardesty, and his wife Janice. Here you can find anything from fresh vegetables to homemade jams made by Janice herself.

  The post office and the bank occupy the rest of the block. Gertie Higgins, the postmistress, tells everyone willing to listen that her job is more important than the bank's.

  Although not verified by county records, rumor has it that the town park at one time was the Blye family's front yard but the mansion sitting on the south side has long since ceased to be a private residence. The Wilson family bought it forty years ago and turned it into Elm Grove's first and only funeral home.

  Elm Grove Community Church has been an active part of the community for over a hundred and twenty years. Upon their arrival, John and Maddy held worship services in their cabin every Sunday. Soon their new neighbors began to join them. Some come to Indiana from as far away as England, Scotland, and Germany. John found the house he built in lieu of a cabin was too small for those joining his family to worship. To accommodate the growing numbers, they held services outside during the summer, with the congregation breaking into small groups during the winter months. At a meeting in June 1828, Isaac Turner surrendered to preach.

  They installed him as the first pastor and in turn, he donated three acres of ground five miles outside the small village on which to build the church and a cemetery. Everett Blye gave a stand of timber; Jeremiah volunteered to saw the timber at his mill without charge. The meeting lasted till well after sunset but by the time everyone departed to their homes, Elm Grove Community Church was born. During the years following the construction of the church, the city of Elm Grove continued to blossom.

  First came the Mercantile run by Willie Potts, later known as William during his tenure as mayor. Next, Alexander Blye, John and Maddy's oldest son, established the Livery Stables. In the following years, other businesses sprung up until Elm Grove was a thriving community. Now, over a century later, the spirit of the pioneers still rested in their descendants.

  Located on a gravel road, the church, with the exception of Sunday, sees very little traffic. That changed this morning as vehicles from the State Police, Sheriff's Department, and the curious onlookers formed dust clouds that had no time to settle before the next one stirred it up again.

  ****

  Jim and Kristy's murderer had left his car hidden by a stand of trees on a secluded lane half a mile across the fields from the church. Sitting in his car going over the details in his mind, he tried to slow his labored breathing. Had he missed anything? Any clue the police could pick up on? Pulling the car onto the gravel road, he stopped and removed the canvas covers from each wheel.

  Opening the trunk, he placed the covers inside and softly shut the lid. Climbing back in the car, he removed the canvas covers from his moccasins. Pausing, he listened carefully.

  Was that a siren? How could it be? How could they have found them so quickly? The sound came closer and a quarter of a mile away, an Indiana State Police patrol car passed on the blacktop road. The killer's plaid shirt and blue jeans were soaked, not so much from the dew that clung to the ground as from the cold sweat that formed on his skin. He had prepared himself mentally to kill the preacher, but not the woman. It was her fault. She shouldn't have come running just because Jim screamed.

  The man was familiar with Elm Grove and the area surrounding the town. He had eaten at the restaurant, shopped at the grocery, and played in the park as a child. He knew many of the people in town. He also knew that the shops were well-populated on Saturday mornings. He had no desire to be seen by any of the Saturday morning shoppers.

  Swinging wide of the village, he threaded his way through the network of country roads.

  Chapter 3

  By late morning, word had spread through the small community of the deaths of Pastor Jim and Kristie. The residents of Elm Grove responded with shock and horror. Farmers searched outbuildings, fields, and woodlots with loaded shotguns in hand. Merchants nervously checked storage rooms. Calls poured into the Johnson household with condolences and offers of assistance.

  Stone-faced, Jack met the challenge; if this was God's way of reaching him, it wasn't going to work. He would not cry nor would he give in to a God who could so callously take his loved ones.

  Her heart aching, Ruth faced the task of telling her granddaughter that her parents were dead. Unable to bear any more pain, Jack fled to the kitchen to answer the ringing phone.

  "Emily," Ruth began, wiping her eyes with the tail of her apron, "Mommy and Daddy went to Heaven."

  "To see Jesus, right?" Emily said, loosening her arms from Ruth's neck and gazing into her eyes.

  "Yes, honey, to see Jesus." Ruth stifled a sob. "To see Jesus and to be with Him."

  "Gram?"

  "Yes, honey."

  Eyes lowered, Emily picked at the hem of her dress. "I know I said I'd stay with you when Mommy and Daddy got here, but would you mind if I went with them when they get back from visiting Jesus?"

  "Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. They're not coming back!"

  "No! I know they'll be back," Emily shouted. "Daddy promised, and Daddy always keeps his promises." Struggling out of her grandmother's arms, she bolted out the door, letting it slam behind her. Flinging herself down on the top step, sobbing she buried her face in hands.

  Jack stood in the doorway watching his granddaughter.

  "How are we going to convince that sweet little girl that her parents are dead?" Jack mused, choking on the last word. Hearing himself say it made it sound more final.

  "I don't know, I just don't know," Ruth sighed.

  Sitting on the step beside Emily, Ruth tried to explain to her granddaughter why her mother and father could not take her to the zoo.

  Shaking her head, her blond curls bouncing, Emily said, "I know they had to go to Heaven to see Jesus, but they'll be back, I just know they will!"

  ****

  Sheriff Curry dropped off the pickup at 11:30 and took a brief statement from Jack and Ruth. As he walked back into the yard, Deputy Ike Harris was sitting in his squad car waiting to take the sheriff back to the church.

  "Who did this thing?" Jack demanded.

  "Jack, I don't know, but I promise you. I'll find them."

  "You better, Bob, because if you don't, I will, and if I find them, I'll save the state some money."

  "Now Jack, you listen to me. I don't want you going after them on your own. Just let me do my job."

  "Then you'd better do it." Jack said. Turning, he stomped into the barn.

  Ike waited until they were out of the driveway before voicing his opinion. "How do you know the old man didn't do it himself? It's common knowledge he never liked his son-in-law."

  Curry gave him a withering look. He waited until they pulled into the gravel parking lot at the white frame church and Ike switched off the engine before answering. Twisting his body to face the deputy, he said, "Harris, you're a good man, one of best law enforcement officers I ever saw. But, there's something you don't understand. Jack Johnson's a tough old bird, and you're right, he never liked his son-in-law, but he loved his daughter. He would have given his life for her."

  "Maybe so, but you know as well as I do sometimes people do crazy things."

  The rest of the day passed in slow agony. Emily could not understand why her parents were so long in coming. She insisted on spending her day on the porch or the front lawn that offer
ed a generous view of the gravel road leading to the parsonage.

  Jack moved his work around the house to keep an eye on her. Each time Ruth checked on them, the tears came unbidden. At the end of the day, they put Emily to bed in Kristy's old room.

  All day long, numerous friends and neighbors stopped to offer their condolences and drop off food. Each time Ruth thanked them; however, as grateful as she was for the food, she would have preferred to cook the meals herself just to occupy her mind. Ruth worked on Kristie's old room all afternoon changing it back to a little girl's room, driving herself to exhaustion and trying not to think of the days ahead.

  She and Jack spend the night in restless sleep. Each time Ruth closed her eyes she saw Kristie's dead face. Finally falling asleep, she dreamed of Kristie in a field of wheat calling to her mother for help. Each time Ruth approached her daughter, the distance between them increased. It was as if Kristie were a leaf blowing in the wind. As Ruth watched helplessly, a dark shadow enveloped Kristie and she disappeared. Ruth awoke in a cold sweat crying out her daughter's name. Jack enfolded Ruth in his arms and let her cry.

  "Why did God have to take her?" Ruth moaned. "She was so sweet and loving."

  Unable to answer Jack gritted his teeth in the dark. If it were possible, Jack hated God more at this moment than ever before.

  As the day for the funeral drew near, the parade of people to the Johnson farm increased.

  The Ladies Missionary Society brought food and babysat Emily while Ruth and Jack made the funeral arrangements. The men fed the stock and completed the haying.

  The church received a thorough cleaning and waxing until the pews and hardwood floors shone in the light of the new chandelier Jim had installed just two months before.

  The day of the funeral dawned warm and cloudless. A gentle breeze blew from the south rustling the curtains. Birds filled the oak trees surrounding the house each trying to out-sing the other. Jack neither heard nor saw any of it. Up at first light, he retraced his steps of twenty-eight years before. At the old gate to the back pasture, he stared at the spot where Rickie had died. Clenching his work-worn hands, he turned his face to the sky.

  "I will raise her for Kristie and Jim, but not for you and I will never turn to you!" he declared in a hoarse throaty whisper. "I hate you worse than their killer." Turning his back to the spot, he strove with determined steps to the house.

  Jack tugged at the tie that seemed to be choking him. He felt out of place in his dark blue suit. By the time, they arrived at the church, he was sweating profusely, his collar wilted and the back of his shirt soaked. The sanctuary overflowed with the crowd spilling out onto the steps and front lawn. Ministers from as far away as Tennessee were sprinkled throughout the congregation. With his pleasing personality, Jim was well liked as well as respected as a gifted theologian.

  Reverend Barry Wells met the Johnsons at the door. Together, he and Jim had struggled through seminary working at the same meat packing plant, each of them newly married and trying to survive on the small salary they received. Upon graduation, they had parted to serve the Lord in different parts of Indiana: Jim to Elm Grove with its congregation of forty-two, Barry to Indianapolis's prestigious Grace Tabernacle with an attendance measured in the hundreds. Many times during the first year, Barry had offered Jim the position of Associate Pastor and each time Jim refused, believing God had called him to Elm Grove. Sheriff Curry stood beside Barry.

  "What are you doing here? Why aren't you out looking for their killer?" Jack shouted angrily.

  "Relax Jack, they were my friends too! Besides, my men and Detective Phillips from the State Police are following up any leads we have."

  "And what leads are those?"

  "I'm not at liberty to say."

  "You can't tell me? I'm her father."

  Still holding Emily's hand, Ruth put a restraining hand on Jack's arm.

  "Jack! Please! Think of Emily!" she pleaded. Jack looked down into Emily's questioning blue eyes. Picking her up, he marched down the aisle with Ruth following. The attention of the entire congregation was drawn to the trio.

  With a flaming red face and a tight set jaw, Jack led Ruth to the space provided for them at the right of the pulpit. Electric fans set at the open windows struggled to cool the warm building.

  Twin caskets lay at the altar. On top of the closed lids were framed photographs of Kristie and Jim, some with Emily smiling back at family and friends. Jack and Ruth agreed on closed caskets, hoping to make the transition from life to death easier for Emily.

  Tugging on Ruth's arm, Emily whispered loudly, "Them pictures are from our house."

  Then she repeated the same to Jack.

  A robust woman in her late twenties stepped to the piano. Ruth recognized her as Norma Wells, Barry's wife. Her voice drifted through the sanctuary as she sang Kristie's favorite song:

  "There is a name I love to hear,

  I love to sing its worth.

  It soundslike music in my ear,

  The sweetest name on earth.

  O how I love Jesus, O, how I love Jesus,

  O, how I love Jesus because He first loved me!"

  After the solo, Reverend Wells stood.

  "Dearly beloved," Barry said, the tears evident in his voice, "We are gathered here today on what for us is a sad occasion. Oh, but may I say, a happy occasion for Jim and Kristie. They have passed from the trials and tribulations of this life into the glory of their Lord. History is rampant with those who gave their lives so that others might come to know Christ as their Saviour. And as such, they did not die in vain. And like these martyrs in the past, I personally heard Jim and Kristie say many times, 'If it takes our lives to bring one lost person to Christ, we will gladly give them.' "The apostle Paul said, 'For me to live is Christ and to die is gain.' Jim and Kristie were a living example of this verse. I'm going to ask you to do something today. If you were led to the Lord by Jim or Kristie, would you please stand as a testimony of their dedication to Christ?"

  Throughout the auditorium, there was a shuffling of feet. It seemed to Jack and Ruth as if the entire congregation stood.

  "Look around you. Here you see this verse exemplified. May I read it to you, again? 'For me live is Christ, and to die is gain.'"

  After instructing the rest of the congregation to stand, Barry led them in prayer.

  "Dear Heavenly Father, how we thank you for the lives of Jim and Kristie. May they continue to win others to you, not just in those who are saved today because of their ministry, but also those who will be led to the Lord by these in the future. In Christ's name, Amen." A chorus of "Amens" echoed throughout the room.

  "A few weeks ago, Jim called me," Reverend Wells addressed the people. "He asked if he were to be called home, if I would officiate at his service. At that time, he said he hadn't discussed it with Kristie but he felt his earthly life was drawing to a close. He also asked if I would have one special song performed in tribute to his Lord."

  Reverend Wells seated himself as a group of five men and two women filed onto the platform. For the first time, Jack noticed the stringed instruments leaning against the wall. Mrs. Wells took her seat at the piano. The melody of the Hallelujah chorus from Handel's Messiah soon filled the room.

  ****

  Seated on the porch in his favorite rocking chair, Jack surveyed the fields spreading out before him. The rich green of the corn and soybeans seemed to have lost their luster. Silence had never bothered him before; in fact, he had always boasted of the difference between the hushed countryside and the teeming city. Today, the quiet house mocked him. When Ruth put Emily down for her nap, she asked her to lie down with her. Soon the petite woman and little girl had fallen asleep in each other's arms.

  Jack wandered through the two-story farmhouse. Sadness encircled him like a blanket. In each room, the memories overwhelmed him: in the bedroom, one-year-old Kristie crying for her mother; in the kitchen, presenting him with her first batch of cookies, burnt to a crisp; in the living roo
m, whirling around to model her wedding dress for him. Tears flowing, sobs wracking his body, Jack suddenly felt very alone.

  Chapter 4

  Thinking it might stir up memories of the failed trip to the zoo, Ruth secretly exchanged Emily's book on Noah's Ark for one of Jesus greeting the children. After her bath Emily climbed onto Grandfather's lap,

  "Gramps, read me a story?"

  "Sure, honey. How about one in the Mother Goose book?"

  "No, please, I want one from this one." She held out a thin book. On the front was a drawing of Christ ringed about with several small children.

  "All right sweetheart," Jack said begrudgingly.