© Linda Faulkner 2019
Print ISBN: 978-1-54398-186-5
eBook ISBN: 978-1-54398-187-2
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
Chapter 10
CHAPTER 11
Chapter 1
Anne Marie Clark regarded the preacher and his son through narrowed eyes. The man barely acknowledged her existence until recently, offering little more than a flaccid handshake after services while fixing his gaze on more important members of the congregation. There had to be some sneaky reason for his visit this evening. Anne was sure of it.
The boy wolfed down a third piece of chicken and reached for another. She figured he’d eat everything on the platter if given the chance. He smacked his lips and let out the loudest belch he could muster, but no one else at the table seemed to notice.
Pastor Ingram arrived in their small community south of Louisville, Kentucky, six months ago. He gained everyone’s sympathy by revealing he’d lost his wife to cancer last year. Now every widow, including Anne’s foster mother, Mona, and many of the older single women were vying for his attention.
“Anne Marie! Where are you manners?” Mona whined in southern belle fashion, anxiously hovering over the table. “Pass the potatoes and biscuits to our guests.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Pastor Ingram gave his hostess an unctuous smile, the corners of his mouth spreading a little too wide to suit Anne. “So nice of y’all to set such an elegant table for us this evening, Mrs. Anderson.”
Anne had heard some lies over the years, but that was a whopper! Their flimsy silverware was the cheapest money could buy and the dishes purchased at a garage sale had seen better days. Blue and orange plastic serving bowls dotted the paper tablecloth. Gaudy fake flowers Mona bought at the Dollar Store provided the crowning touch. Colorful maybe, but elegant it was not!
“And the chicken was mighty fine. Mighty fine, indeed,” he added, turning to focus his attention on Anne. “Child, since there is no man in the house to guide you, perhaps I can provide some much needed counsel. Now, I’ll come right to the point: I heard about your plans and I know you have your heart set on going to that fancy music school, but wouldn’t another vocation be more practical?”
Thought so! He was here about the money. Everyone looked down on her until now. How things changed the minute that letter from a law firm arrived in the mail notifying Anne she was the beneficiary of a trust fund set up in her name. Overnight she had enough to put her through school and leave her comfortably well off afterward, if she managed it carefully. The minute the preacher heard about it, he started hanging around like some old hound dog looking for a scrap of meat.
“Another vocation? Like what?” she challenged.
“Well, you could go to Checker’s School and learn how to run a cash register, like Donna Shultz,” he suggested. “She got a real fine job at the supermarket.”
Anne put her elbows on the table, something she was warned repeatedly not to do. “Only part time, so I hear.”
“I’m sure there must be another profession you could enter, one more suitable to your station in life. The money you received is tainted and must be given to the glory of God to cleanse it. You have a golden opportunity to atone for the sins of your mother and grandmother.”
At the mention of her mother, Anne pulled up straight in her chair, her face flushed with anger. The same preacher who ignored her because she was a welfare kid with no money or family suddenly wanted to run her life.
“No way!” Anne shouted back. “I’m going to Lakeshore Conservatory, like I wanted. Mr. Dusek says I have more talent than anyone he’s ever seen before.”
The preacher stiffened, his lips quivering with outrage at having his moral authority questioned. “But that money is the devil’s money!”
“How do you know?” She flicked one hand in the air, dismissing his argument. “I don’t recall seeing ‘Hell’ on the return address when I got that letter. And nobody seems to know where the money came from. Anyway, I’m sure the school doesn’t much care one way or the other, as long as I pay them.”
“But, child,” he countered, “You can give it to the Lord’s purpose. Think of the good it will do.”
“Yes,” Mona chimed in, her eyes glittering with excitement. “We could tear down that old church and build a beautiful, brand new one in its place. We’ll be the envy of everyone for miles.”
“We must pray for guidance,” the preacher intervened, closing his eyes and projecting his baritone voice throughout the room. “Lord, lead this child to the path of righteousness. Help her to purify this money, this money from the devil’s own lair, and give it gladly to the glory of the Lord. Cleanse her heart and make her Thy willing servant. In the name of Jesus Christ, we pray. Amen.”
Anne jumped up from the table, slamming her napkin down on the plate so hard the silverware clattered. “Excuse me? Until last week I didn’t have a future and nobody gave a hoot. Now y’all want to take it away from me.”
“Please understand,” he pleaded, trying to regain control of the situation. “It will never come to any good if you keep that money. You’ll only suffer in the long run.”
“You mean I haven’t suffered enough since my mom died? Did anybody even care about my suffering before I got that trust fund?” Anne let the question hang in the air a few seconds. “Nope!” she continued. “They sure didn’t! So as far as I’m concerned, if it’s the devil’s money we’re talking about here, let the devil come get it!”
Anne tore out of the room. Mona’s screeching voice followed her down the hall. “Young lady, you get back here! Right this minute!”
Anne sat on her bed and braced herself for the tirade that would surely follow, but by the time Mona reached her room, she had calmed down somewhat.
“We need to talk.”
“About what? It’s my money.”
“It’s not just the money,” she pleaded in a soft, wheedling voice. “If you do the right thing and give it to the church, we’ll have a chance to be a family again. He really cares about me. Can you imagine those snobs in the congregation and the looks on their faces when I become Mrs. Ingram, the pastor’s wife?”
Images of Mona belittling her late husband flashed through Anne’s mind, setting her teeth on edge. Joe was a good, hard working man but he couldn’t give Mona the status she craved. “Are you crazy? The preacher isn’t one bit interested in you.”
“That’s a vicious lie!”
Anne let out a long, frustrated sigh. “He never once looked your way until you blabbed about that trust fund to everybody.”
The arrow hit its mark. Mona’s face hardened. “I rue the day Joe bought that flute. Ever since then, you think you’re better than me. Well, you’re not! You’re nothing, Missy! Nothing! And now that you’re over eighteen, I’m not getting any money to support your sorry ass, so you’d better start packing. Get out of my house! Now!” Mona stormed out the door without looking back.
Mona’s words stung but Anne knew this was coming. Mona had always been jealous of the closeness between her husband and Anne. Sadly, Joe was no longer there to defend her. She glanced around the room, memor
ies welling up from the last five years. Anne was the daughter Joe never had and although he didn’t make much money as an auto mechanic, he did his best to please her. Shortly after she arrived at their home, he found an old dresser made of solid oak at a yard sale. “They don’t make them like this anymore,” he insisted, giving it a fond pat.
Joe had a rare gift. He could see the hidden beauty in things, as well as people. The dresser was badly scratched and had been painted over at one time. He stripped it, sanded out the scratches and refinished it with stain to restore its original beauty. After he replaced the drawer pulls, the old became new again. Anne brushed her fingers over the oak dresser to say goodbye. There was a little piece of Joe’s soul in that wood.
Anne called her teacher, John Dusek, and asked if he would come get her. Afterward, she pulled her mother’s tattered brown and tan suitcase down from the closet and filled it with the few things she had. The rest she stuffed in a kitchen garbage bag. Last but not least, she picked up the flute Joe bought at a yard sale to encourage her to join the school band. At first she didn’t want to play the flute, but as it turned out, Joe had given her more than just an instrument: he gave her the gift of music. It soon became the key to everything beautiful in her life.
As Anne stepped onto the front porch, Mona slammed the door behind her and snapped the lock shut. She waited until Mr. Dusek pulled up in the driveway.
“What happened?” he asked, frowning as he opened the passenger door for her.
“The preacher wanted my money and I wouldn’t give it to him, so Mona threw me out.”
He stared at her small suitcase and the garbage bag. “Is this all you have? Social Services must have paid something for clothing and expenses.”
“Well, I haven’t seen it lately. Mona gives everything to the church.”
John stowed her things in the trunk and got back in the car. “I’m sorry, Anne, but this isn’t your fault. Mona hasn’t been the same since Joe died.”
“Yeah, I know.” Anne realized Mona was lonely and desperate, just as her mother had been after the accident. When her father died, her mother turned to pain killers and booze. After Mona lost Joe, she embraced religion.
Both Joe and Mr. Dusek altered her life completely five years ago. Anne went from one foster home to the next until Social Services brought her to stay with Joe and Mona. Joe thought joining the band might be a good thing for Anne, and he was so right! For the first time in her life she excelled at something, way beyond any of her classmates at school.
“Mona isn’t a bad person, I guess,” Anne said, breaking the silence. “She threw me out because I killed her dream. She wanted to marry the preacher and thought my money was her ticket to happiness.”
John shook his head at the thought. “Money may buy comfort, food and shelter, to name a few, but not happiness. And it sure won’t buy love.”
“I used to wish I had a family. I thought that would make me happy. The closest I ever got to that was here, but it didn’t last. All I have for keeps is my music. You knew how much I wanted to go on with it after high school. When you told me about that scholarship, I really got my hopes up.” Anne stared out the window a moment, reflecting on the flawless performance she gave for the audition, despite the anxiety and fear knowing her whole future depended on it. Anne swallowed the lump in her throat. “All the talent in the world won’t fix things if you’re dirt poor. When I didn’t win, I thought my life was over.”
“Anne, I can’t say for sure, but I think it was politics. I heard that girl audition. She was outstanding, I’ll admit, but not near as good as you are. There is so much competition in the Arts, politics and favoritism will be something you’ll have to deal with all your life.”
Anne still had the letter from Lakeshore with all the flowery words about how everyone was so talented, it was difficult to choose. She’d been accepted to the school, but someone else got the scholarship. When she read the name, Ashley Montgomery, it was one of the worst moments of her life.
“You’ve more than earned every break you get,” John assured her, as he pressed the remote to open the garage door. “That money came just in the nick of time. Pastor Ingram has no right to interfere.”
Anne was grateful for everything Mr. Dusek had done for her and needed to show her appreciation. “I want to thank you for all those private lessons you gave me. Now that I can, I want to pay you back.”
“No! Absolutely not! I won’t accept it. Being a teacher was not my first career choice. You know that. I wanted to play in a symphony, but God had a different plan for me.” John turned off the engine and paused a moment, meeting her gaze. “As they say, ‘Man makes plans. God laughs.’ I’m where I want to be now and having just one student like you made it all worthwhile.”
John and Cherie Dusek enjoyed a quiet moment after Anne and their four children were tucked in for the night. Cherie settled down on the sofa next to her husband. “So what’s the plan?”
“I told Anne she could stay here for the time being, but she insisted our house is bursting at the seams as it is. She asked me to take her to the airport tomorrow.”John chuckled to himself. “She said she’s had enough of riding in buses and cars with smiley-faced social workers.”
Cherie shook her head, doubting Anne’s decision. “I worry about her living in the city. Chicago will be pretty intimidating.”
“That girl had a hard life. If anyone can weather it, she can. I’ll never forget the first time I met her. She was so angry at the world, I was afraid nobody would ever be able to reach her. She’s come a long way.”
“Anne was definitely at risk,” Cherie agreed with a yawn. Normally they would have been in bed an hour ago. “You went the extra mile and ended up making a difference.”
“Oh! By the way,” he added, “She called the school, and they told her she can live in the dorm if she takes classes. They have room during summer session.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” Cherie turned to face her husband. “What do you think about Pastor Ingram wanting Anne’s money?”
“Actually, I think there’s something not right about that man. It’s just a feeling, but I keep getting the notion he got his Doctor of Divinity through some mail order catalog.”
Cherie laughed. “I wouldn’t doubt it a bit.”
The next morning Cherie brought Anne another suitcase. “This is yours to keep. You’ll need it today. I don’t think the airline will let you check in a garbage bag.”
Anne gave her a shy smile. “Probably not. Thank you, Mrs. Dusek.”
“Call me Cherie,” she said, giving Anne a hug. “You’re a grownup now.”
John came into the room with his flute, a Haynes French Professional, the one he loaned Anne for her audition. “I want you to take this. You can’t have that old clunker of yours at such a prestigious music school.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she insisted. “I can buy a new one.”
“I know, but it would mean a lot to me if you would start your career with this flute. I’ve had it awhile, but it’s in excellent condition. You can always buy another one in the future.”
Minutes later they left for the Louisville Airport, two suitcases in the trunk and both flutes in Anne’s lap.
“So what do you think you’re going to do with your music?” John asked.
Anne thought about it a minute. “Well, maybe play in a symphony.”
“That’s one option, but I can tell you that’ll be quite a challenge. I found out the hard way, the politics are notorious. Then again, you may change your mind someday. At school you’ll get a better idea of where you’d like to be. Teaching at the college level would give you opportunities to perform. Maybe you’ll be good enough to tour with a community concert series. See how it goes. And please, keep in touch with us.”
“I will. Thanks for everything.” She stepped onto the sidewalk in front of
the terminal and turned back to wave goodbye. “I’m going to do my best to make you proud of me.”
“You already have, Anne. You already have.” He nodded toward the Haynes flute in her hand. “Do me one last favor. Take that grand old lady and follow your dream, wherever it leads you.”
CHAPTER 2
The airport gave Anne a glimpse of a whole new world. People of all races and creeds hurried here and there to make their flights. She figured everyone who could afford to fly would be wearing beautiful clothes and was surprised to see some were no better dressed than she was. One girl had holes torn in her designer jeans. Anne knew distressed denim was the fashion, but her pants were distressed because they were old and worn out.
She had no idea what to do until someone pointed to a line of people waiting to purchase tickets. An attractive older lady with beautiful silver hair stood next to her. She seemed to pick up on the fact Anne wasn’t a seasoned traveler.
“Your first flight?” she asked.
“Yes Ma’am.” Anne was shy of strangers and hesitated to say more.
“Then this will be quite an adventure for you.” The woman looked down, pointing at the two flutes and Anne’s purse. “They only allow two carryon items. You’ll have to check one of those.”
“Okay.” Anne unzipped the tan suitcase and put her old flute inside, stuffing it between her clothing in the hope the layers of fabric would cushion it somewhat.
The woman stared at the old suitcase for a moment. “Where did you get that?”
“It belonged to my mother. It was all she had when she was adopted. That and some baby clothes.”
“I see...” The woman seemed lost in thought for a moment, but quickly recovered and turned her attention back to Anne. “I take it you’re a musician.”
“Yeah. I’m going to study at Lakeshore University Conservatory of Music.”
“I’ve heard of it. You must be very talented,” she said, giving Anne a warm smile of approval. “Be sure and keep your photo ID handy. You’re going to have to show it a lot.”
Prelude to Silence Page 1