No secret. Josh leaned back in his chair as a sudden searing pain shot through his lower spine. He winced and kept typing. I cut out the junk, sugar and stuff. That’s it. No more three-a-day root beer Big Gulps.
LOL . . . good for you, J.
He yawned and wondered again whether Becky would ever want him back or if he should push things with Cara, talk to her about the future. The answers would come eventually, he had no doubt. He would call Becky and if she wasn’t interested, he could fly out to see Cara once his health was right. He could stay at a nearby hotel and they’d have a few days to find out if what they shared online could translate into real life. I have other plans, he typed. But if I tell you it’ll spoil everything, so . . . they’ll have to wait till later.
Now you’ve really got my interest.
Let’s just say I plan to keep it, you know? Your interest.
Ah . . . you’re my best friend, J.
And you’re mine. The pain in his back was intensifying. Oh, and pray for Savannah, okay? I feel like she’s not doing that great.
I will, I’ll pray. . . . Hey, listen to me! A month ago the word “pray” wouldn’t have been in my vocabulary. But you, J, you’ve changed me.
He had an answer as soon as he read her message. God changed you. He changed me, too—isn’t it great?
Anyway . . . why do you feel funny about Savannah?
I don’t know. He moved his mouse back to iTunes and double clicked the song that started him on the path back to God. The words filled the small spaces around him and he sang along. Cara must’ve been waiting for more of an explanation. He centered his hands on the keyboard and tried to get in touch with his feelings. Slowly, his fingers began to move. Maybe it’s because I haven’t seen a photo of her in so long. . . . Sometimes I wonder if she’s still alive or if she knows about me at all.
Cara’s answer came slowly, one sentence at a time. That’s
sad. And it’s wrong. You’ve got to get your lawyer to help you find her.
I will. And she’s out there, I know it. I just feel like I’m supposed to pray for her. Until I meet her, it’s the only thing I can actually do for her, you know?
The first time you meet that little girl, I want a front-row seat, J. It’s like a movie or something. That’s the kind of happy ending it’ll be.
Josh thought about his conversation with Carl Joseph and Daisy last week, how the best stories were the ones with happy endings. He began typing. That’s what I’m asking God for . . . a happy ending for me and Savannah. He moved forward in his chair and waited a few seconds, but the pain was gaining ground on him. At this rate he wouldn’t last another few minutes at the computer. The song was ending and he started it over again. One more time through and he’d turn in for the night. I need to turn in soon, he typed. Sorry.
That’s okay. I’m tired, too.
I might sleep a little longer tonight. I want to feel good for Ben’s game tomorrow. We’re all going to church after, and then to Lindsay’s house for dinner.
Sounds wonderful. Wish I were there.
He smiled. Me, too . . . you’d really like Lindsay.
They talked about their siblings for a few minutes, but the fire in Josh’s back was relentless. Hey, gotta go. I’ll check in with you tomorrow, okay?
I’ll be waiting. Sleep well, J.
Thanks. He flinched at another shot of pain. Don’t forget about Savannah.
Josh powered down his computer and opened the top desk drawer. Inside was a picture of him and Becky from their senior prom. Was it all just a dream, the idea of contacting her after so many years, maybe asking her out for coffee, and seeing if there were still feelings there for both of them? Sometimes Becky seemed more like a fantasy, the perfect girl waiting for him to become the perfect guy.
But on nights like this he could still smell the shampoo in her hair, still feel her in his arms as he waltzed her across the prom dance floor. He could hear her laugh and feel the way his heart connected with hers. He doubled his determination as he set the picture back in his desk drawer. He would make something of himself and he would call her. God could take care of the rest.
Until then, he was grateful for Cara.
He yawned, and even that small action hurt his back. He wanted to head straight for bed, but lately he’d added a brief side trip to his bedtime routine. He pushed back from the desk, struggled to his feet, and then walked to his fireplace. Every step hurt worse than the last, and by the time he reached the mantel with the photographs, sweat was dripping down his forehead. Dear Lord . . . I can’t get through this without You. Please. . . . He closed his eyes and held his breath, looking for even a small window of relief. Two pain pills a day, those were the doctor’s orders. But sometimes—when he’d been to Denver for another hearing, especially—he would take three. The increase wasn’t much, not compared with the stories he’d seen online of some out-of-control people. Three was more than he liked to take, but it wouldn’t kill him.
He exhaled and opened his eyes, opened them to the picture of Savannah. I don’t know where she is, Lord, but
I know she’s mine. I know it with everything inside me. He grabbed another excruciating breath and steadied himself against the mantel. You can see her right this minute, so please . . . be with her and comfort her. Keep her safe, God, so that when I’m better I can have a chance to be her daddy. She’s all that keeps me going sometimes.
I am with her, My son . . . and I am with you . . . always.
The holy reminder seemed to come whenever he was at his lowest. Josh released his hold on the mantel, kissed his fingertips, and pressed them to Savannah’s picture. Thank You, God. . . . Now, if You could please help me get some sleep.
He gave his daughter a final look, turned, and shuffled to his room. The pain had become a spasm ricocheting from his shoulders to his lower back. He’d have the rest of the weight off by the end of February and then he could finally have the surgery.
He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and fell into bed. The haze of pain was making him nauseous, so he moved quickly for the bottle of pills on his nightstand and took one in the palm of his hand. His water glass wasn’t even half full, but he didn’t have the energy to get out of bed again. He’d have to down it quickly, making the best use of the water he did have.
For a moment he let himself imagine a life like the one he used to lead. Heavy or not, he could flop into bed and find instant sleep without so much as a thought of pain medication. He put the pill in his mouth and swigged the rest of the water, but the liquid slid down his throat leaving the pill behind. On impulse, he chewed the pill and swallowed it.
Not until he set the glass back on his nightstand did a thought flash in his mind. The doctor had said something about chewing the pills, right? How he had to be careful because a chewed pill could release the medication too quickly into his system or his bloodstream, or something like that. Panic flooded his veins and made him sit straight up despite the pain. His heart pounded hard, faster than usual. What if chewing the pill would hurt him? Maybe he should call 911, or at least contact his mother to ask for her advice.
But even as he sat upright sorting through his options, sleep came over him. Thick and heavy and sweet, the pain in his back faded and he felt his body relax. Slowly, he slid down until his head was partially on his pillow. In the farthest corner of his mind a nearly silent alarm was still sounding. He was okay, right? He had to be okay because God had great plans for him. Lord . . . help me. The sensation of sleep intensified and for the first time since the accident, Josh’s pain all but subsided.
The relief felt wonderful, intoxicating. Everything was going to be okay. You’re with me, right, God?
Until the end of the ages, My son . . .
Good. Josh smiled and let himself be dragged under, pulled into a sleep deeper and sweeter than any he’d ever known, even before the accident. God had great plans for him and for Savannah, so there was no reason to be afraid. And as he let the darkness
close in around him, he released every care, every pain. The sensation of relief was so strong he felt like he was sleeping in the palm of the Lord’s hand. The last thing Josh experienced was something he hadn’t known for a very long time. Maybe not forever.
Complete and utter peace.
Savannah didn’t know the big man talking to her mama, but his dark eyes made little chill bumps up and down her arms. They were in Central Park begging money, that’s what Mama called it—begging money—and a big man in nice clothes stopped and talked to them. Well, not to them, but to her mama. He had bushy dark hair and a little gold cross on a skinny chain and three big gold rings. At first her mama and the man laughed and talked loud about having a good time and what about plans for the night. But then Savannah saw the man show her mama some money. A lot of money, because there were zeroes on the dollar bills and Mama said zeroes were good.
That’s when Mama told Savannah to sit on the bench and wait and she and the man walked toward the pond and their talking changed to quiet indoor voices. Savannah felt a little scared sitting there by herself, but she swung her feet and kept her eyes looking at the ground. Mama said it was always better to keep her eyes pointed to the ground so people wouldn’t get the wrong idea. Savannah didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded serious so she looked at the ground. Also she talked to Jesus, whom her grandpa Ted taught her about when she was five and they met for the first time in his hospital room. Grandpa Ted was her mama’s daddy, but Mama said she didn’t get along with him. She told Savannah they had to go to the hospital because Grandpa Ted was dying. That’s the only reason.
“I don’t have long, Savannah,” he told her. Then he talked to her about Jesus—how He was God, but you couldn’t see Him, and how He made all things and even how He wanted to be in her very own heart. Grandpa Ted took her hand that day and smiled the nicest smile anyone had ever given her. “If you love Jesus, if you talk to Him and trust Him, then one day we’ll be together forever.”
“Where is that place?” Savannah liked Grandpa Ted. She wished her mama had taken her to meet him before he got so sick.
“It’s called heaven, sweetie.” Grandpa coughed a lot and it took him a few ticks of the clock before he could talk again. “Sometimes life isn’t so good this side of heaven. But, ah”—his eyes lit up and got a little bit of tears in them—“heaven will be absolutely perfect, Savannah. Like a birthday party that never, ever ends.”
“A birthday party that never, ever ends.”
Those words made the most beautiful picture in Savannah’s head and that picture made her smile. She thought about it again and again, especially after her grandpa Ted went there a few days later. There were a lot of scary days with Mama, so what Grandpa Ted told her sounded like a good idea. Trusting in Jesus. Yes, it was a much better idea than anything her mama had thought of.
Jesus, I’m looking at the ground so no one gets the wrong idea. She held on to the edge of the bench, but it was sticky, so she let go and folded her hands in her lap. I’m glad You’re in my heart because I feel a little scared about that man Mama’s talking to. Maybe she knows him from our room in Harlem. Or maybe not, and that means he would be a stranger, so Mama shouldn’t talk to him.
She lifted her eyes for just a quick look, and finally her mama and the man were coming back. They were laughing and whispering and the man had his arm around her shoulders. Savannah felt a sick feeling in her stomach, because she didn’t think her mama knew the man, which meant she was letting a stranger put his arm around her. Anytime that happened, her mama ended up hurt or crying or angry at the stranger.
Savannah sighed and looked at the ground again. Where was her daddy right now? Do You know, Jesus? ’Cause if You do then could You tell me, please? He’s a Prince Charming and he loves me, I just know it. So if You find out where he is, please . . . tell me, okay?
“Savannah?” Mama’s voice was different, all sweet, like there was a song inside her. Not the way she usually sounded, which was sad and mostly angry and frustrated.
She looked up. “Yes?”
“This is Victor.” She smiled at the man and blinked a few extra times. “He’s going to take us to his house by the park today.”
“For a sleepover.” The man winked at Savannah’s mama. Then he raised his hairy eyebrows at her. “Sound like fun?”
Savannah’s heart beat harder, faster. Jesus didn’t like lying, that’s what Grandpa Ted told her. But just then her mama’s look told her, Listen, young lady, you better tell the stranger yes or else trouble for you! She gulped at the man and answered him in her most quiet voice. “Yes, sir. But I like my own spot on the floor, thank you.”
“That right?” The man laughed hard from deep in his round belly. “Don’t worry, little one. We’ll have a good time. All of us.” He elbowed Savannah’s mama. “I hope you have half her spunk.”
“Spunk.” People used words like that to talk about her.
Spunky. Feisty. Spirited. Mama said it was because her hair was red and she had freckles. They all three started walking toward the pretty buildings on the edge of the park. Savannah couldn’t read yet, because her mama said school could wait. But the building where the man took them had the letters R-I-T-Z, and a man in a fancy costume was waiting for them out front.
Victor took them through a pretty room to a restaurant and they ate dinner at a table with a white sheet over it and pretty glasses and plates and forks. Savannah didn’t dare say anything, but she couldn’t stop looking around. The people and the furniture and the carpet and the ceilings— none of it looked anything like their room back in Harlem. More like something from a movie. This, she thought, is a place where my daddy would live. She knew exactly what he looked like so she started checking to see if he was one of the people who walked by.
Victor talked mostly to Mama. They ordered steak and potatoes and Savannah got a hamburger and French fries with a tiny little bottle of ketchup. Savannah kept looking for her daddy while they ate, which took a long time because her mama and Victor had two bottles of wine.
After that Victor took them into an elevator up to his house. “His room,” he called it. Savannah’s mama and Victor were laughing loud and walking very crooked. But when they reached Victor’s door, inside was a whole house with a living room and two TVs and big giant windows that showed the park across the street. Savannah had never seen anything so beautiful in all her life. Victor turned the TV on for Savannah and he found a show with kids singing. “Wait here, little one. Your turn will come later.” He grinned at her, but the way his eyes looked made her feel scared.
Then he and Mama went into another room and Savannah heard the click of a lock. They stayed in there a long time until it was almost night. Savannah got tired of watching TV. She walked to the window and stared at the park and the sidewalks that went along the edge. So many people. Sometimes she wondered if she would ever find her Prince Charming daddy.
A thought, or maybe a wish, filled her heart. That maybe right this minute, wherever he was, her daddy was thinking about her, too. That made her feel safe and sleepy inside. She went back to the couch and stretched out.
“Savannah?”
The voice belonged to a man and Savannah sucked in a quick breath as she blinked her eyes open. She pushed herself into the corner of the couch. She must’ve fallen asleep. This wasn’t her place on the floor in their room in Harlem, so where was she? From the window she could hear pouring-down rain and a little bit of thunder. She blinked fast and then she saw him. That strange man, standing close by her. Light came into the room from the street outside and she could see his grin. The same grin as before.
“No,” she whispered. She tried to move farther into the corner of the couch.
Please, Jesus. . . . Please keep me safe.
The man took a step closer, but just then Savannah’s mama stepped out of the room. “Victor, come back. . . .” She still sounded funny from the wine. “I wanna show you something.”
Victor looke
d once more at Savannah and touched a piece of her hair. “No loss.” He spit a little when he said the word “loss.”
“I don’t care for redheads, anyway.” He did that belly laugh again. Then he winked at her and went back into the other room with Mama.
Once the door closed, Savannah breathed hard and fast, and her heart pounded like the rain against the windowsill. She wasn’t sure what the man wanted or why he had come to her, but deep inside her she knew that God had heard her prayer, and that He had just rescued her from something very bad. Thank You for my red hair, she told Jesus before she fell asleep again. Because maybe that helped her be safe.
Two days later her mama and Victor got in a fight. He yelled and she yelled and then Savannah saw him slap her mama across the face. Savannah ran for the door and covered her face, but before Victor could do anything else bad, Savannah’s mama took her by the hand and they left. In the elevator, Mama touched her hand to her cheek and she started crying.
Savannah thought it was because her cheek was red, and because Victor didn’t want to be her friend anymore.
“Men are pigs.” She closed her eyes. “How could I believe him?” She sniffed and then she rolled her eyes. “I’m a terrible mother, Savannah. I don’t even like children. I should take you to CPS and drop you off. We’d probably both be better off.”
“Is that where my daddy lives?”
Her mama looked at her with the strangest look. “Is that what you want? To live with your father?”
Savannah opened her eyes wide. “Yes, please. At least for a little while.”
Her mama cried harder then. “Fine, Savannah. You’d be happier with him, anyway. And I could do whatever I wanted.”
Mama said that all the time, that both of them would be better off if Savannah went to CPS or to live with her daddy and that then she could do what she wanted. But her mama never took her there. Savannah figured that was because her mama loved her, even though she said she didn’t like children a lot. She probably just didn’t know how to act around children. That’s what Grandpa Ted whispered to her when they talked that time in his hospital room.
This Side of Heaven Page 10