He spoke through his blue tooth device. “Hello, Chief. Yes, we had a little incident in Dwight. Everything is fine, and I’m okay.” Marcus stopped talking and listened to Chief Davis. “You want to see me today? It can’t wait until tomorrow? We’re about an hour and a half from Chicago. Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He ended the call.
“I take it we’re making a stop before we head home?” Wade inquired, as he glanced out the rearview mirror.
“No, I am. I’m going to drop you off at home. I have a bad feeling about the chief calling me and asking me to come in. You have my back, don’t you? That the situation that went down at the prison was beyond my control?” Marcus gazed pleadingly over at Wade.
“Sure I will,” Wade reassured Marcus.
Silence filled the car as Wade drove to Chicago. Marcus chewed his lip when he was nervous, and he was gnawing on it like a squirrel with a nut. Marcus had a hunch that whatever the chief was going to tell him wasn’t good.
Chapter 29
Aron was downstairs resting in his room in the basement, and Monet was upstairs lying on the chaise reading a book. She couldn’t get comfortable when she had lain in bed. Her ankles had swollen slightly, so when she called her doctor, she suggested Monet stay off her feet. She had been experiencing contractions off and on most of the day, and she just attributed it to Braxton Hicks contractions. She knew that her body was preparing for the childbirth. Mitzi was curled up on the floor at the end of the bed.
Her due date of July 19th had come and gone. Her obstetrician had cautioned her that due dates were not a perfect science, that the baby could arrive two weeks early or two weeks late. Monet was now a week late. She looked at her suitcase lying against the wall near the closet. She had completed all her preparations for Faith. Now she just had to wait for the baby to arrive.
Monet felt jittery. She sensed a few hours ago that Marcus was in some kind of trouble, and the feeling kept niggling at her. She wanted to call him, but he’d stopped answering her phone calls a long time ago. She knew if she texted him with a 911 message, he would probably respond, but knew her feelings wouldn’t qualify as an emergency to Marcus. Liz was working late at the hospital, so Monet couldn’t call her. She guessed she just had to tough it out. But that didn’t stop her from wondering if her husband was okay.
After Marcus dropped Wade off at home, he headed north to the police station. Twenty minutes later, he was sitting outside the chief’s opened office door. He wasn’t getting a good vibe about what the chief was going to say to him. Finally, the chief gestured for Marcus to come into his office.
Marcus went inside and sat on a chair. “Sir, you wanted to see me?” he asked.
“Yes. I got a call from Warden Jones at Dwight, and he told me what happened with Richardson. I knew I should not have given you permission to go there. What did you accomplish?” The chief was irate, Marcus could almost see smoke coming from his ears.
“I guess nothing. The prisoner just enforced what we already knew, that he’s crazy.” Marcus hung his head shamefully. Then he looked up and said, “I’m sorry, Chief, but it wasn’t like I asked Richardson to attack me. The man isn’t operating with a full deck. If I had remembered that I had arrested him in the past, I never would have gone to that prison and confronted him.”
“In the past, a perp is someone that you never would have forgotten, and Smitty was remiss in not discovering that information sooner. Jones said that you froze up and Harrison saved your life. And because of your reaction, or the lack thereof, I’m ordering you to take a voluntary leave of absence from the job. You need time to get your head together. You were always too close to the situation, and now you need down time to get yourself together,” Chief Davis informed Marcus, as he put a stack of papers into his in-basket.
“Sir, I don’t feel that I need time off,” Marcus said apprehensively. “I can’t lose my job now. Why, it’s all that I have.” His voice broke up.
“Marcus, if you don’t do this on a voluntary basis, then I’m going to have to suspend you. You need help, and there are people in the department you can talk to, or you can find someone on your own. I’m sorry. I’m doing this for your own good. You will continue to draw your salary,” Chief Davis said.
Marcus felt humiliated and even less than a man. He wondered how all this could be happening to him. Briefly he blamed all his troubles on Monet, and then he remembered she was the one who had been attacked. Then he thought of Mad Dog, and wished he could’ve hurt him the way he had hurt Monet and himself.
“How long is this leave suppose to last?” he finally asked Chief Davis.
“I expect you to take off at least two months, and more if needed.” Chief Davis spoke with a finality that Marcus knew he couldn’t argue with.
Marcus stood up and asked, “Starting when?”
“Immediately. You can turn over your weapon now.” The chief held out his hand.
Marcus opened his jacket, removed his gun from the holster and the bullets from the weapon, and placed them in Chief Davis’s palm. Then he turned to exit the office.
“Marcus, trust me when I said what I’m doing is for your own good. One day you’ll look back on this day and thank me.”
When pigs fly, he thought. “Sure, Chief, whatever you say. My .38 is at the house. I’ll turn it in tomorrow. That is, if that’s okay with you.”
“That will be fine. Again, I’m sorry it came to this. You’ll be back on the job in no time.”
Marcus nodded as he closed the door to the office. He was furious. He had put in twenty years of service to the department, and now he was suspended, no matter how much the chief tried to sugar coat it. He started to go to his desk and decided not to. Since he and Wade were partners, he didn’t have to turn over any information to him. He stalked out of the station and walked briskly to his car. A few officers spoke to him, but he didn’t bother to acknowledge their presence.
Once he got inside his SUV, he hit the steering wheel in frustration a few times. Then he dropped his head in his hands. How did my life come to this? I feel like I don’t have anyone to turn to. Monet is off limits. Wade has been so patient with me, I don’t feel like bothering him with my problems. I don’t know what to do.
His cell phone rang and home was displayed on the caller ID. He wondered if Wade had told Monet what happened already. Jeez, he thought, I don’t want to go home, if that’s what you call it, and I can’t bother Wade.
Marcus closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the seat. He sat inertly for a few minutes. Then he sat erect and put the key in the ignition and started the car. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he figured wherever he went, it was better than going home.
He drove to Chatham. Marcus wasn’t sure what drew him to the church. He wasn’t even sure anyone would be there. It was Tuesday evening, and he knew there weren’t any events scheduled at the Temple that night. He put on his left turn signal and pulled into the church parking lot.
The lot was empty except for one car, and Marcus knew that it was Reverend Wilcox’s Cadillac. He debated with himself about what he should do, but he finally exited his SUV and walked to the front of the church plagued with doubts. He pulled the door handle and it was locked. He rang the bell, which went to the telephone system in Reverend Wilcox’s office.
“Hello, who’s there?” Reverend Wilcox asked.
“It’s me, Marcus Caldwell,” he said in a leaden voice.
Reverend Wilcox sounded the buzzer, Marcus pulled the door open, and walked inside to the reverend’s office.
Reverend Wilcox was waiting at the door when he walked inside the church. She took one look at Marcus’s face and knew that he was hurting. She held out her arms and he walked into them. She held him comfortingly for a few seconds, and then Marcus pulled away and looked at her hopelessly.
“Why don’t you come into my office,” Reverend Wilcox suggested. “We can talk in there.”
Marcus followed her into the off
ice her father had once occupied. She sat down and folded her hands on the desk. “What can I do for you, Marcus? What’s wrong?”
“I feel like I’m losing it, Reverend Wilcox. I don’t mean I’m suicidal or anything. My life has degenerated into a fiasco, and I seem to be powerless to do anything to change it.”
She beamed benevolently at Marcus. “When you made the decision to come here this evening, that was the first step toward getting your house in order. Praise God for leading you here. Now tell me what’s been going on with you.”
Once he began speaking, he spilled his guts; Monet’s pregnancy, how she disregarded his suggestion that she terminate the pregnancy, how he felt alienated on his job, his father-in-law moving into the house, and then to top things off, Monet’s attacker being someone he had arrested, and who had raped her for revenge.
“I feel like things are escalating out of control, and I don’t know what to do,” he confessed sadly.
“First of all, I want to pray for you, son,” Reverend Wilcox said. She rose from her chair, came and sat in the chair next to Marcus and took his hands in hers. They both bowed their heads and closed their eyes.
“Father above, I want to thank you for bringing Marcus to the Temple tonight. He may not know it, but this is the best place in the world for him to be: in your house, Lord. It is our spiritual home, where we can feel your grace and mercy, and believe with you, all things are possible. You give us strength when we need it, and we can lean on you when the going gets tough. And right now, Father, Marcus needs to release his burdens and lean on you. Let Marcus know that he is not alone, and you are available to him twenty-four hours a day. He just has to call, and you will answer. And Father, Marcus is calling, and I know you will grant him the peace that he seeks. These blessings I ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.”
“I can’t give you the answers to the questions that you seek,” Reverend Wilcox began, “but I can listen to you and give you advice, if that’s what you want. Is that okay with you?”
Marcus nodded that it was as he lay his arms on the sides of the chair.
“I know the incident with Monet has hurt you badly. And the pain has cut to the quick. But she survived the attack, her wounds have healed, and your wife is a strong woman; one that most of us could aspire to be like. Legally, she could have terminated the pregnancy, but she has waited over half of her life for this moment, and she truly believes that the baby is yours, there is no doubt in her mind.”
“I disagree. She just wanted a baby so badly that she would accept that child no matter how it was conceived,” Marcus countered.
“You don’t really believe that because you know your wife. You and Monet have always been attuned to each other’s feelings. You’ve been with her since you were in high school. I think that even if she believed the baby was the result of the rape, she would still accept her child because that’s her personality. Her livelihood has been one of nurturing babies. That would go against the grain for her to terminate the pregnancy. God is testing you, and the devil is trying to sneak in and steal your joy. I hope you don’t let the devil win,” Reverend Wilcox said. Marcus pondered her words. “Do you remember how Monet would come to the altar every Sunday because she needed a blessing, and how she dragged you to Jerusalem and Arkansas, praying to conceive a baby? And then she just stopped?”
Marcus nodded his head. “Yes, I remember. I thought she had given up hope of us having children and accepted it would be just the two of us.”
“I also remember asking her about adoption, and she said you didn’t want to go that route. She was hurt by your decision, but she respected your wishes, even if it meant depriving herself of what she wanted most in the world.”
Marcus rubbed his eyes. He knew every word Reverend Wilcox spoke was true.
“Sometimes one partner has to be stronger than the other so their mate can lean on them. You were there for Monet after her attack, and there is no doubt in my mind that you were an integral part of her recovery. I know it wasn’t easy, but you were there for her, and you comforted her, and why was that, Marcus?” Reverend Wilcox probed gently.
“Because I love her,” Marcus said simply, and waves of love roared into his heart, emotions that he’d tried so hard to suppress for the past nine months. He dropped his head in his hands.
Reverend Wilcox nodded her head and whispered, “Help him, Lord. He needs you right now.” She patted his back.
After Marcus collected himself, he said, “I failed my wife when she needed me most. I should have followed my first mind and picked her up from work like I started to. Had I done that, then the rape never would have happened.”
“Marcus, you can’t take that kind of burden upon yourself. Everything that happens to us in life is for a reason. Monet wasn’t alone on that day because God was with her. She was hurt physically, but not permanently, and God, in His infinite wisdom, kept her here with us.”
“That baby she’s carrying is a permanent reminder of what she went through,” Marcus remarked.
“If that is the case, then maybe that’s what the Father wants you to do, raise that child to the best of you and Monet’s ability.”
“But why would God do that to us? We haven’t hurt anyone. We attend church and try to lead good lives,” he said.
“There are some things in life we may never understand, but maybe God has chosen you and Monet for those very reasons you mentioned. You’re Christians, you go to church, follow God’s teachings, and try to lead good lives, as you said. I know how you feel, Marcus. I went through the same doubts when my husband left me. I didn’t think I could face another day, much less the gossip of the church. I had my father and brother to lean on, and they kept me sane. And out of all that heartache, I received my calling. So maybe I had to go through a trial to find myself in life. I imagine you’re going through the same thing.”
“I guess I’ve been so wrapped in my own feelings that I haven’t considered anyone else’s, and that was wrong of me,” he confessed morosely.
“Life’s journeys are made up of peaks and valleys, and sometimes that peak can be so sharp. But if we believe in God and know that He can help us, then that makes the going a little easier. Think of it as God providing a cushion.”
“We probably should have had this talk a little sooner than today,” Marcus said, clearly chagrined.
Reverend Wilcox said astutely, “I believe you came here when it was time. There is still time to talk to Monet and tell her everything you’ve been feeling, and I know she will comfort you just like you comforted her.”
“I’ve been such a fool for the way I treated her,” Marcus cried. “I hope I can make it up to her. But I don’t know if I can be a good father to that child after what I saw of Monet’s attacker today.”
“You have more strength than you know, Marcus, and I don’t mean the physical kind either. Don’t try to do everything on your own. Pray for guidance, and I promise you God will deliver and help you.”
“Thank you, Reverend Wilcox. I’m so glad God put it on my heart to come here tonight, and more importantly, that you were here to talk to me.”
Reverend Wilcox beamed her beautiful smile at Marcus. “I’ve been staying at church a little later than usual the past couple of weeks. I knew emotions might become taut for either you or Monet as her due date approached. I wanted to make myself available to either one of you, whoever needed my assistance.”
Reverend Wilcox reached for a pad on her desk and quickly began to write. When she was done, she looked at Marcus. “Sometimes we need something to focus on when we start to feel overwhelmed. Put this inside your wallet or someplace close by where you can access it quickly. I’m going to read them to you now. “Oh Lord, you are my hiding place; You will protect me from trouble, and surround me with songs of deliverance.” That is taken from the book of Psalm 37:7. The next one is from the book of Ecclesiastes 7:14; “When times are good be happy, but when times are bad, consider God has made one as well as the other.�
�
“And this one,” Reverend Wilcox concluded, “is my favorite. Trust in Him in all times, O People; pour out your hearts to Him, for God is our refuge. That one is from the book of Psalms 62:8. Pray, Marcus, and trust in God. Give Him your burdens and trust that He won’t fail you. I promise you that you’ll feel better. Talk to Monet, open your heart to her and everything will be all right.” She handed the paper to Marcus. He stood up and put it inside his wallet.
“Thank you, Reverend Wilcox. I promise I’m going to talk to Monet tomorrow. I hope she will forgive me.”
There was a twinkle in Reverend Wilcox’s eye. “Trust me when I say that I know she will. Go get your house in order, Marcus.”
“I will,” he promised earnestly as he held out his hand.
She clasped it firmly. “I will keep you and Monet in my prayers, and don’t hesitate to call or come see me if you need to.”
“I will, and Pastor, keep the prayers coming.” Marcus turned to leave the office. “Do you need me to wait on you? I can stay here until you’re ready to leave.”
“No, that’s okay. I’m going to be here a little while longer. You never know who may come by in need of prayer,” Reverend Wilcox said.
“Okay, be careful,” Marcus said as he walked out the door.
“I will, and the same to you.” She waved good-bye to Marcus.
As he drove home, the ice that had encased his heart began to melt. He knew he still had a lot of atoning to do, especially to his wife. He now understood what Wade was trying to tell him earlier. Marcus wondered why sometimes people had to nearly lose everything before they realized what was most important to them. He could hardly wait to see and talk to Monet. Their conversation, like Monet’s due date, was long overdue.
Chapter 30
When Marcus arrived home he found the house dark. Mitzi was asleep in her basket. He walked upstairs and Monet was asleep too. He went downstairs to the basement, and Aron, like his daughter, was asleep. After he showered and changed into his pajamas, Marcus let out the sofa bed and retired for the night. He took the piece of paper Reverend Wilcox had given him out of his wallet and read the words. He hadn’t prayed in a long time, but that night he asked God to forgive him for being hardheaded, and to help him to find the right words to say to Monet tomorrow.
Faith Page 25