Redirecting Billy

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Redirecting Billy Page 3

by JR Thompson


  Grabbing his clothes, the fourteen-year-old grew even more agitated. “Did I seriously leave an ink pen in my pocket? Man, Mr. B.’s gonna be all up in my face.” Ink stains were all over the dryer, and the only outfit he had to his name was splattered with blue specks. There would be no way of denying that one.

  The house phone rang, and Billy darted toward the living room, clothes in hand. “I’ve got it!” Mr. Bones called from the master bedroom.

  That didn’t stop Billy from picking up the other phone. He pressed the mute button just to make sure no one could hear him breathing.

  “Sorry for not calling you earlier, Alden,” he heard Mr. Bones say.

  “It’s okay,” Alden replied. “I figured you were busy. Is this a good time to talk?”

  “Yeah, man. How are things going at the Wamboldt place? You and your grandma getting along okay?”

  Billy scratched his head, wondering who his probation officer was talking to. He could tell it was a kid and suspected it was probably another client.

  “We’re doing good. She said I couldn’t talk very long tonight so I need to keep this kind of short.”

  “Now Alden, you have no idea how proud I am to hear that. Your grandmother gave you directions, and you’re trying to comply. Way to go, bud!”

  Billy grinned. Whoever the kid was, he must be a brat. It was pretty pathetic that he had to be patted on the back for following one instruction he was given. Sounded like a pretty cool kid.

  “Thanks… I have a project I’m working on for school, and I was wondering if maybe we could go to the island this weekend and you could help me with it?”

  Strike that thought. The kid must be a nerd. Who calls their probation officer and asks him to help with school work? Definitely not a kid Billy had any desire to meet.

  “Well, buddy, I’m honored that you called to ask, but I don’t know if I can this weekend. I’ve missed church the past two Sunday mornings. I don’t know if you remember or not, but God might be calling me to preach.”

  “I remember. I’m not trying to keep you out of church. But… we still had services on the island, remember?”

  Billy raised his eyebrows. So, his probation officer took this Alden kid to an island somewhere, and they had their own personal church services together? Like that wasn’t weird or anything!

  “Yeah, we did,” Mr. Bones agreed. “But the Bible says we’re not to forsake the assembling of ourselves together. As a Christian, God expects me to be in church.”

  “Well,” Alden said. “What if we just hang out at the island Friday night and come home Saturday?”

  “I’d love to, man… but I have a lot going this week—”

  “I’ll bring my trunks... I’ll even take you up on that challenge to see who can swim to the other side of the river the fastest.”

  Mr. Bones chuckled. “Alden, you’re awesome. Do you know that?”

  Billy couldn’t make up his mind what to think of this conversation. He could tell his probation officer and Alden had a special bond. After giving it some thought, he knew who the kid was. The white momma’s boy Mr. Bones had been mentoring before.

  “Thanks, Mr. Bones,” Alden said. “But can we go?”

  “I might have to ask for a raincheck on that one, bud. You see, I have another client staying with me right now.”

  There was a silence. Billy was curious as to where their conversation was going to go. A hand firmly gripped his shoulder from behind. Hesitantly, Billy looked up to find Mr. Bones glaring at him. Mr. Bones continued gripping his shoulder. Alden asked, “Another client? Is it that Billy kid?”

  A puzzled expression came to Billy’s face.

  “Yes, Alden. It’s Billy. He’s just here for a little while.”

  Billy wondered how Alden knew his name. What exactly had Mr. Bones told him? He didn’t appreciate being talked about behind his back.

  “That’s not fair!” Alden fussed. “I asked you to adopt me. You said it wouldn’t look right for a single man to take in a thirteen-year-old.”

  “Alden, I still feel that way, but there were extenuating circumstances.”

  “Like what?”

  “I can’t exactly share other clients’ personal lives with you, bud. It’s against the law.”

  “Well, since Billy’s already living with you, can I move in too?”

  “No, Alden. It doesn’t work like that.”

  “You know what?... Forget you, Mr. Bones. I thought you liked me, but it’s obvious you don’t!” Alden hung up.

  The probation officer squeezed Billy’s shoulder a little harder than he had been. “Hang… the phone… up. We’ll discuss this in the morning… I’m heading back to my room to call Alden back. Don’t even think about eavesdropping like that again.”

  “Yes, sir… Sorry, Mr. Bones.”

  “Wait a minute… what’s that all over your shirt?”

  Billy lifted it up off the couch and pretended he hadn’t noticed. “I don’t know,” he lied.

  “Let me see it.”

  Billy handed it to him. He looked toward the TV while chewing on his bottom lip.

  “Do the rest of your clothes look like this too?”

  Billy nodded but intentionally avoided eye contact. “Your washing machine must have messed up, sir.”

  “Come in here with me and let’s have a look-see.”

  The fourteen-year-old shook his head. “You probably ought to call Alden back. Fixing the washing machine can wait ‘til morning.”

  “Now, Billy! Let’s go.”

  Taking his grand time, Billy got up off of the couch and followed Mr. Bones to the laundry room. Mr. Bones opened the dryer. “Just what I thought! You didn’t check your pockets, did you?”

  “It was an accident, Mr. Bones.”

  “And you knew about it when I first asked you about the shirt, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, man.”

  “Why did you lie to me?”

  “I ain’t lie ‘bout nothin’!”

  “Alright, Billy. We’ll deal with this at another time. Get in there and get to bed. I don’t have time for this right now.”

  Billy didn’t have to be told twice. He returned to the living room and threw his blankets on the make-shift bed. “I’ve done it now,” he muttered. “Oh well, a few more days of tearing up his appliances and interrupting his phone calls and he’ll make Momma take me back!”

  Grabbing the remote, Billy turned the TV on and flipped to a sports channel. Mr. Bones barged into the room with the phone up to his ear. “It’s past 10:30, Billy. Turn it off and leave it off.”

  “I always be fallin’ asleep with the TV on.”

  “Not here you don’t. Turn it off, now!”

  Billy shook his head as he hit the power button. “Fine. Good night, Mr. Bones and—,” he raised his voice to a shout, “You hear that, Alden? It’s late! You ought to be in bed!”

  Mr. Bones rolled his eyes and made his way back to the master bedroom.

  Billy tried to fall asleep, but he couldn’t do it; not with bits and pieces of his probation officer’s conversation filtering through the door. He got up and tip-toed to the kitchen. Opening a few cabinets, he was disappointed to find nothing but health foods — definitely not his cup of tea.

  Checking the fridge, Billy again found himself frustrated. Now the freezer, on the other hand, that’s where it was at! Green mint-chocolate ice cream. That would hit the spot!

  Taking out the box, Billy started to look for a bowl but thought better of it. Borrowing a spoon from the dishwasher, he ate right out of the box. After about a dozen spoonfuls or so, he closed the container and put it back in the freezer. What Mr. Bones didn’t know wouldn’t hurt.

  6

  Parking across the street from Westview Middle School, Philip whispered a prayer, “Dear Heavenly Father, please give me the opportunity to speak with Alden while I’m here. I know I’ll see him in my office Thursday, but I can tell he’s pretty sore with me right now. If I cross paths wit
h the kid, please help me smooth out the ruffled feathers. Thank you in advance! I pray this in Jesus’s name, Amen.”

  The probation officer locked his car and headed across the street. Once inside, he met Mr. Ponderosa in the hallway.

  “Good morning, Mr. Bones. Hear to check up on Alden?”

  “Yes, sir. How’s he doing?”

  “Much better,” the principal replied. “Until this morning, anyway.”

  “That doesn’t sound good. What happened?”

  “Nothing serious — not for Alden anyway,” the principal chuckled. “He knocked a kid’s books out of his arms as he was walking down the stairs.”

  Philip shook his head. “What was his excuse?”

  “Claimed it was an accident, but five witnesses say otherwise… He’s earned himself three days of after-school detention.”

  Philip felt guilty. Alden had been doing better until the day after he had let him down. He didn’t want to take the blame for the kid’s actions; Alden had a mind of his own. But he also knew Alden was a troubled teenager who could easily slip back into his rebellious stage. If that was going to happen, he wanted to make sure he had done everything in his power to prevent it. “Would it be okay if I had a word with him?”

  “I wish you would, Mr. Bones. You’ve had a profound effect on that young man. I don’t know how you do it, but somehow you have that kid’s respect. I’ll tell you what; why don’t you head to the office and I’ll get Alden for you?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Sooner or later Philip would learn to be more specific with his prayers. Yes, he was going to see Alden but not under the best of circumstances. Moseying down the hall, he glanced into classrooms as he walked. The things he saw were interesting: students whispering to one another behind their teacher’s backs, a girl’s cell phone getting confiscated, a soft-spoken man trying to regain control of a room full of unruly students. It made him wonder how learning in such an environment was even possible.

  Arriving in the office, he noticed a handful of student volunteers doing everything from manning the phones to organizing paperwork. A couple of adults were hanging out in the back of the office joking around and appearing to have the time of their lives. Philip took a seat next to a boy who was whiter than a ghost. He could only assume the kid was sick.

  Fourteen minutes passed before Mr. Ponderosa showed up with Alden. “Sorry for the delay,” he said. “Alden was in the middle of a math test.”

  “Not a problem,” Philip said. “Do you have a conference room available by any chance?”

  “Sure, right this way.”

  Alden followed the two men in silence.

  Mr. Ponderosa opened a door and flipped on a light switch. “Will this work?”

  “Yes, sir,” Philip replied. “I’ll just need about ten minutes or so with him.”

  “Take as long as you’d like,” Mr. Ponderosa said, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.

  Alden plopped himself down. “Who snitched on me?”

  Mr. Bones hated that question. For whatever reason, ninety-nine percent of his clients considered snitching to be a far worse crime than anything else imaginable. They didn’t care if someone was a thief, a bold-faced liar, or a drug addict. But a snitch didn’t deserve to live. The twisted logic of teenagers was worrisome. Regardless, Mr. Bones was glad he could honestly say no one had called to report the boy’s misdeeds.

  Alden ran his fingers through his hair as he looked down at the table. “Of course, you’d come by on the one day I get sent to the office.”

  “Purely a coincidence, Alden… What happened today?”

  “Same ole, same ole. Always getting blamed for things I didn’t do.”

  “Alden, your principal says he’s seen significant improvement in your behavior lately… Don’t mess up now… Do you remember our conversations about how we have to teach our mouths what they can and can’t say?”

  Alden nodded.

  “Don’t let your tongue win a victory. That thing wants to lie. You teach it to obey you. You’re an honest young man who is trying to improve his reputation. Don’t let that mouth ruin it for you.”

  Alden balled both fists, released them, and slowly stretched out his fingers.

  “Same thing applies to that temper, buddy. You are in control of your anger; it doesn’t rule you anymore. Remember?”

  The thirteen-year-old took a deep breath. “Okay… You’re right — I can do this. I’m not mad, and I’m not going to lie. I knocked Eric’s books down the steps… I didn’t do it to be mean. I was just trying to give everybody a laugh.”

  “So, you’ve reverted back to bullying? I thought you got all of that out of your system, man?”

  Alden crossed his arms and mumbled, “That’s what you get for thinking.”

  It had been a while since Alden had spoken to Mr. Bones in such a disrespectful manner. He was right; Alden was upset with him. “Are you jealous?”

  “Jealous?” Alden sounded shocked that his probation officer would even suggest such a thing. “What do I have to be jealous of?”

  “I don’t know… Billy moving in with me maybe?”

  “Why would that upset me?... I mean… just because you let him stay with you even though I asked first doesn’t phase me at all.”

  Mr. Bones shook his head. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt Alden. He had come so far. It would be a shame to see all of that progress go down the toilet. “Alden, we’ve been through this. You have a grandmother who loves you. You need to be with your family.”

  “And Billy doesn’t need to be with his?”

  “Billy should be with his family as well; we’re working on that.”

  “Right,” Alden said sarcastically.

  “Listen, I’m hoping to have Billy back at his place no later than the end of this weekend. If he’s still with me Friday… what do you say we talk to your grandma about you coming over and spending the night with us? That way you guys can get to know each other, and you and I can spend some time talking or whatever.”

  Alden fought to keep a straight face. “I guess I can do that… if you really want me to.”

  “I would love to have you over, Alden... However, if you get into any more trouble at school, this weekend is off. Understand me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now, I want you to apologize to Mr. Ponderosa and to Eric. Not just a quick ‘I’m sorry,’ but a sincere, heartfelt apology. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  7

  Toward the end of the Wednesday evening prayer service, Philip’s breathing shallowed, his heart began to race, and there was no doubt about it — the Holy Spirit was at work. Philip couldn’t stay in his pew any longer. Nearly sprinting his way to the altar, tears streamed down his cheeks. On bended knees, he prayed silently in his heart, Precious Heavenly Father, oh… thank you so much for making it clear to me. Yes, Lord, I’m willing. I would love to preach the gospel! Yes, it scares me to death. But I surrender my life to Your will and service. I’ll do whatever You want me to do. I’ll go wherever You want me to. You give the orders, and I’ll follow them.

  A hand fell on Philip’s back. He glanced up to see Pastor Jahmal. “Everything okay, Brother?”

  Philip leaned over and hugged him. “Pastor, your message hit home tonight! God has been dealing with me for weeks, but I wasn’t sure until tonight… He wants me to be a preacher!”

  Pastor Jahmal chuckled. Jumping up, he shouted, “Praise belongs to the sweet Almighty Lord Jesus! Can I get a witness?”

  Clover Street Baptist Church erupted in shouts of “Well, glory!... Praise His Holy Name!... He is worthy!... You got that right, Pastor!”

  When things calmed down, a gentleman in the back said, “Pastor… what exactly are we praising Him for?”

  Pastor Jahmal laughed, “Sorry about that, folks! I guess I got caught up in the moment.” He placed an arm around Philip. “The Lord just used our church to birth a new
preacher-boy! Everybody come up here and shake this man’s hand!”

  Philip was bubbling over with joy as folks lined up to share their words of encouragement. He couldn’t remember ever having such a tremendous peace in his soul. Other than teens he had mentored, Philip had never taught anyone from the Word of God — but that was about to change.

  “Brother Philip,” Pastor Jahmal said. “One thing I’ve learned throughout my years of ministering is that a man doesn’t learn to swim until he gets thrown into the water. Sunday evening, you’re going to fill this pulpit.”

  Philip tensed up. “This Sunday? Like, in four days, Pastor?”

  “Yes, sir. I want you to memorize and apply II Timothy 4:2 to your life, son. It says to, ‘Preach the word; be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all longsuffering and doctrine.’ There’s no better way to put that scripture into practice than just to get right in there and preach! You can do it, brother!”

  Philip chuckled nervously. He was glad somebody had confidence in him. If it were his decision, he wouldn’t preach his first sermon without taking at least a month to prepare.

  Billy strutted up to the altar and gave his probation officer a fist bump, “When Momma finds out I’m livin’ with a preacher, she ain’t never gonna let me move back home. We ain’t gonna tell her ‘bout this, right, Mr. Bones?”

  “We’re not keeping any secrets from your mother.”

  “Figured as much,” Billy mumbled before moving on so the rest of the congregation could congratulate him.

  For another ten minutes, Philip shook hand after hand. He smiled so long he feared his face was going to get stuck that way. Eventually, the swarm dispersed and he and Billy were free to head to the house.

  “Do you think you know enough about the Bible to preach to that crowd?” Billy asked.

  “I hope so,” Mr. Bones chuckled.

  “If I were you, I’d be terrified of preaching to Pastor Jahmal. How long’s he been pastoring? Like twenty years?”

  “Twenty-three,” Mr. Bones said.

 

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