The Bargain - One man stands between a destitute town and total destruction.

by Aaron D. Gansky

  “You’re kidding. Caleb Harper? The good Reverend himself? I guess things are going well.” She laughed and gave me quick directions. I never moved my eyes off Nick.

  “You ready, Nick? I think you’ll like what Caleb has to say.”

  He took the gun from his head. He stared at it, and un-cocked it. “Never been to see no preacher man.”

  “You know Caleb?”

  Nick slid the gun back in the glove compartment. “If he’s got a beard, I may kill him.”

  * * *

  Directions to Caleb’s house included spotty phrases like “take the third dirt road on the right,” and “hang a left at the two-headed Joshua Tree.” All the roads, all the flora and fauna looked the same to me. How anyone differentiated between creosote bushes or Joshua Trees baffled me.

  Nick knew his way around well enough to fill in the gaps in Aida’s spotty directions. Potholes and washboards marred every road we took. Roads split in half, then came back together. At some point, they ceased to be roads and became trails. If Nick wanted to kill me here, my body would rot and decompose long before anyone found it.

  I put the thought out of my mind and continued to give directions as best I could. I said things like, “turn left,” and “okay, I’m lost now.”

  Nick followed most of my directions and pressed on even when I wasn’t sure how to instruct him. He said little, only the occasional, “Really think I’m a coward?” or, “Think I’m going to Hell?”

  My responses never wavered. “Not for me to decide.”

  As we neared the dry riverbed, the golden cottonwoods stretched higher. They had no leaves, and I wondered if they ever did. The plants in this area looked angry and diseased. Through the maze of the dying foliage and winding dirt road, we finally found Caleb’s mobile home.

  “You’re not going to tell Aida, are you? Caleb won’t tell her, will he?”

  “I won’t tell, and I doubt Caleb will.”

  He nodded. “You coming in?”

  “If you’d like.”

  “Might be nice.”

  My heart had steadied. The long drive settled my nerves. Strangely, I found myself more nervous about talking to Caleb again than I did sitting here with Nick.

  I put my hand on his shoulder, “This is going to help. You’ll be glad you did this.”

  Even more amazing, I believed what I said. If any man needed God, it was Nick.

  I needed Him, too. I couldn’t ignore it anymore. That hollow feeling in me—that hole I dumped all my anger and resentment and guilt and fear into, the one I tried to fill with accomplishments and accolades and praise—gnawed at me with the voice of God.

  He flipped his sunshade up, “Sorry about all that back there at the Cluster.”

  I smiled. “Scared me half to death.”

  “That was kinda my point.”

  “Well, you did a fine job of it.”

  He took the keys from the ignition and pushed them in his pocket, but didn’t move out of the car. He put his head back on the headrest and sighed. He took a cigarette from a box in the center console, inspected it, then put it back.

  “For what it’s worth, I don’t hate you. Aida and Nadine won’t hate you either.”

  He closed his eyes. “How can you be sure of that?”

  “I know them. You’ll get it when you talk to Caleb.”

  * * *

  Caleb smiled broadly when he answered the door. “Good to see you again, Connor.” He embraced me.

  I wasn’t a hugger, never had been. I fought the urge to stiffen in his arms and hugged him back.

  Caleb released me and turned to Nick, extended his hand. “Good to see you, Nick.”

  “Rev.”

  “Call me Caleb.” He motioned us inside. “I got coffee, lemonade, and water, but I can’t recommend them. Got a few sodas in the fridge. They’re the safest bet.”

  I stepped inside and immediately recognized the absence of a woman in his life. His home looked like Mason’s, both in floor plan, décor, and filth. Judging by the stench of rotten bananas and cat urine, I’d postulate Aida didn’t come by to clean this place up once a week.

  I tried not to gag on the smell. “I’ll take a soda.”

  As if reading my mind, he grabbed a can of Mountain Breeze aerosol freshener and sprayed the living room. He opened up a window on either side of the house. The crispness and chill of the September air carried a dampness that pulled the stale odor out.

  “Nick?” Caleb asked.

  “Nothing, thanks.”

  We tossed some of the laundry on one side of the couch to create enough room for both of us. Nick looked at me, cocked his head and arched his eyebrows, as if to say, “Is this guy for real?”

  “You and Nick know each other?” The refrigerator closed, and Caleb appeared a moment later, two colas in hand.

  He handed me one. “You could say that.”

  Nick crossed his legs and said, “I popped him one when he came knocking on my door a few months back.”

  Caleb pointed to his nose again and smiled. “No worse for wear. What brings you two here?”

  Good thing Caleb practiced Jesus’ teaching of “turn the other cheek.” As a soldier in the Army’s Special Forces, Caleb could have ended Nick’s life on the spot. Did Nick know that? Had he punched Caleb on purpose, hoping to push the pastor to homicide?

  Nick crossed his arms. He didn’t know how to begin the conversation, so I helped him out.

  “Nick and I got to talking today, and had some questions about the afterlife.”

  Caleb sat in a green recliner and put his feet up. “Must have been an exciting conversation. Anything specific you want to know?”

  Nick turned his head and coughed. A rough, spasmodic fit took him, shook roughly. His lungs rattled with fluid. It sounded like the cough of a drowning man. When he settled down and regained control, he cleared his throat.

  “Say there’s this guy, one of those guys who wanted to do some good things, but he ended up doing something pretty bad. What happens to him when he dies?”

  “You mean his spirit? You want to know if he goes to Heaven or Hell?” Caleb bounced a foot on the footrest.

  Nick wiped his mouth with an old stained handkerchief. “Sure.”

  “What people do in their lives doesn’t determine their eternal destination. The question is, have they accepted Christ as their Savior?”

  “Let’s say they haven’t.”

  Nick asked the question, but I wanted to know the answer. Nadine had accepted Christ as her Savior, but to this point, I hadn’t. If Nick had shot me today, what would have happened to me?

  Caleb sighed and leaned forward. He adopted the posture of a doctor delivering a fatal prognosis to a patient. “Sadly, I wouldn’t have any good news for a man in that position.”

  “Hell?” I said.

  “That’s what Scripture says.”

  The answer punched my stomach. I’d spent my life counting on getting to Heaven on the strength of my articles, the hope they brought to my readers. I’d done good, avoided doing anything bad. I’d never killed anyone, didn’t lie much. I saved Mason’s life, and even Gloria’s. That had to earn a trip to Heaven, but, according to Caleb, it wouldn’t.

  Caleb unfolded his hands and held them out to us. “It doesn’t have to be like that. If they accepted Christ before they died, they’d be on their way to Heaven. No more pain or suffering. No more hunger or thirst. Instead of a filthy mobile home, they’d have the keys to a mansion.” He smiled. “I may not have a great house here, but when I get to Heaven, I’m going to have an expansive manor. And it will always be clean.”

  I hoped he wouldn’t wait until he died before he cleaned this place up.

  Nick coughed and wiped at his nose. “Say they
do that, but then say they do something pretty horrible after. Say they do the whole Jesus thing, but then, maybe get angry and kill someone. They still get to Heaven?”

  Caleb leaned back and folded his hands. “You’re asking some pretty tough questions. Books have been written about these kinds of questions.”

  “What do they say?”

  “Depends on which one you’re reading, and which one you believe. Here’s how I look at it. When Christ died on the cross, which sins did He die for?”

  Nick looked at me, and I shrugged. “I’ve got no clue.”

  “Got me,” Nick said.

  Caleb smiled. “All of them, right? He died for all of our sins. Yours, mine, Connor’s.”

  “Easy, Rev.” I smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

  “All right, so maybe Connor doesn’t have as many as me, but he still has a few, I’m sure.”

  I nodded, and Nick relaxed a little. His shoulders seemed less slumped, and he uncrossed his arms. “Okay, so He died for all of them.”

  “So if He died for all of them, there’s nothing we can do that hasn’t already been paid for. You follow?”

  I nodded, but Nick furrowed his brow in confusion.

  “God,” Caleb continued, “is above time. So when Jesus died on the cross, even though it was nearly two thousand years ago, His sacrifice paid for everybody’s sins, past, present, future. Get it?”

  “Think so.”

  “By that line of thought, the man who accepts Christ, the one who genuinely wants to change his life, the one who really wants to do what’s best for God, for Jesus, for everyone else, the one who truly cares less about himself than about other people, if he ends up doing something unspeakably bad, technically, that sin is still paid for.”

  Nick leaned forward. “What about someone who’s done something really bad and then accepts Christ?”

  Caleb smiled. “We’d have to ask if that person is genuine in their call for help, in their acceptance of Christ. But if it’s real, it doesn’t matter what they did before, it’s paid for.”

  “Charlie Manson. Not too bad?”

  “Not even Hitler.”

  Nick chewed on this answer for a bit, and I sipped my soda, contemplating whether this talk was more beneficial for Nick or for me. I wanted my wife to get better. My apathy toward the town waned, and I truly wanted to do my part to save it. People, good people, might depend on me.

  Caleb, Veronica, Mason, Aida, and now Nick.

  They weren’t perfect, and neither was I, but they didn’t deserve to be wiped out. And if God truly loved men like Manson and Hitler, why not the people of Hailey?

  I sipped my soda. “Are you exaggerating now, Caleb? Trying to prove a point?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not saying Manson and Hitler are in Heaven. I doubt they are. Still, if they’d called out to God, to Christ, they might be. See, God’s love is infinite. We humans can’t comprehend the depth of His love, no matter how hard we try. But His love for us isn’t dependent on our understanding.”

  “It sounds too easy,” Nick said. “You’re telling me if they just accepted Jesus, they could get into Heaven?”

  “It’s not really about Heaven at this point, is it? Yours is a question of what people deserve. You think people have to pay for their sins, am I right?”

  “It makes sense.”

  I leaned forward, adopting their posture. The three of us huddled together like campers exchanging ghost stories around a campfire.

  “People do pay for their sins, in this life. There are always consequences for our actions. But in the spiritual realm, Christ did all the work for us. It may be easy for us, but you have to understand, it was the hardest thing Christ ever did.”

  I remembered the conversation I had with Mason, when I insisted salvation sounded too easy. I thought again of Nadine hanging on the cross and cringed.

  Caleb stared at us intently, expectantly. “You boys do much praying?”

  Nick shook his head like a child being reprimanded by his parents.

  I nodded. “Lately? Yeah.”

  Caleb paused before he asked his next question. “Have you said the prayer.”

  I shook my head, then buried my face in my hands. Sobs rushed through me, shook me. Tears wet the corners of my eyes. I couldn’t figure out why such a simple question had affected me so poignantly.

  I’d finally heard the voice of God. I’d thought He’d be angry, maybe disappointed in my stubbornness. Instead, He spoke with patience and hope, a loving father to a prodigal son, welcoming me home with open arms.

  Nick’s sobs echoed mine.

  Why had it taken me this long? Sorrow reached in and gripped my heart, not because I felt evil, but because I’d wasted my life, my marriage with Nadine. Selfishness robbed me of whatever joy I could have had. I’d wasted so many years on myself, trying to find contentment and joy and love. And all that time, it was right in front of me. How many times had Nadine told me that? How many times had I ignored her?

  Caleb spoke softly through our sobbing. “We can’t change our past, gentlemen. We can’t undo what we’ve done. But we can change our future. We can change ourselves.”

  I nodded and wiped my tears from my face. I sat up straight and slowed my breathing to regain control. Nick did the same. “I want to change,” he said.

  And then, almost without realizing it was my voice, I said, “Me too.”

  Chapter 26

  Monday, September 7th

  Nadine lay quietly on the couch when I came back to Aida’s. Eyes closed, she slept peacefully. I had a box of spaghetti from Sue’s to deliver, but it could wait. Sleep was more important for her now.

  Aida smiled as I shut the door quietly behind me. “You’ve been gone most of the day. I take it things went well?”

  “You want spaghetti? Brought enough for the two of you.”

  She shook her head. “What happened today?”

  “How’s Mason?”

  “You can ask your questions after you answer mine. How did things go? What happened?”

  I pushed the leftovers in the over-crowded fridge. “It went well, yes.”

  “How well was well?”

  “Two stories well.” I sat near Aida and put my hands behind my head, pulled my elbows around my ears and closed my eyes.

  “You were gone an awful long time for two stories.”

  “We grabbed dinner after the interviews.”

  “Who’s ‘we’?”

  We kept our voices low so as not to disturb Nadine, but she smiled. Her eyes may be closed, but she was probably awake and paying close attention.

  I sighed. “I’ll start from the top.” I told her what transpired throughout the day, the interviews with Veronica and Nick. Veronica’s story would be easy to spin in a positive light. I left out the part of Nick parking on the tracks. I’d tell them eventually, but had no interest in upsetting them.

  I told them about the visit to Caleb’s and the dinner with Nick, myself, and Caleb. Veronica waited on us. The service and food were noticeably better. I’d actually enjoyed the dinner, something I’d never guessed I’d say.

  “You’re making friends,” Nadine whispered, still smiling.

  “I guess I am.”

  For the first time, on my drive back to Aida’s, I saw the beauty of the desert. It no longer looked diseased. The sun set and poured liquid gold over the entire landscape. Smog never touched the clear sky; I could almost count the stars.

  The desert’s beauty stemmed from its hope. It might be a challenging place to live, but people and animals and plants did it each day. Despite the adversity, the desert offered an opportunity to rise up. They might not have money, but the people of Hailey triumphed over circumstances every day.

  However, the deser
t’s beauty came with tragedy, a tragedy stemming from the same optimism offered by the desert. Yes, the people could rise up, yes they could make something of themselves, yes they could make a difference, but so few chose to. Rather than put in the effort to rectify bad marriages, to forgive neighbors, or to forgive family, most of them chose the easier path: remove the source of the trouble by whatever means necessary.

  At first, I assumed the tragedy of the desert was its people’s inability to overcome. Now I understood it was the lack of decisions to persevere, to better themselves.

  A correctable problem.

  Mason theorized the depravity of the town was a symptom of a larger spiritual problem. After interviewing so many of its citizens, I started believing him. But, in one afternoon, a profound change happened in me and in Nick. If men like us could change, who couldn’t? None were beyond the grace of God.

  When I got to the part about the conversation Nick, Caleb, and I had, Nadine’s eyes snapped open. Her mouth opened slightly, and I could see the corners of her eyes glistening. “Connor.”

  I still felt nervous. It seemed awkward, with Aida and Nadine both staring at me. I felt childish and uncomfortable, so I stood up. “How’s Mason?”

  She shrugged. “I told him if he was nervous about the wedding, he could have talked to me.”

  I laughed, wandered to the window and looked out at the sun as it set behind the mountains. The sky ignited; the mountains blackened to charcoal. “Really.”

  “He lost a lot of blood. They’re keeping him for a few days. Want to make sure the transfusion went all right. Other than that, they expect a full recovery.”

  “That’s good news, right?”

  “Shouldn’t have gotten shot in the first place,” she muttered.

  “The wedding.” Nadine spoke softly.

  I nodded. “So it’s delayed a few more days.”

  Aida looked hard at me. “Do we have a few more days?”

  I sighed. “You know it’s not up to me, right?”

  “I was asking,” she said. “It’s not an accusation. I really want to know. Do we have a few more days?”

  I sat down. Not exactly dinner party conversation. “You tell me. All I do is collect the stories and write them down. You guys have picked out everyone for me to interview so far. You know them as well as I do.” I paused, searched for the right way to verbalize the central question that plagued me since I left Caleb’s. “Who decides who is righteous? Is it us?”