Courageous (9 page)

“If I have five siblings I know of, from three different women, who’s to say I don’t have more? And statistically, some of them would probably have been killed.”

“Killed?” David asked.

“You know—what they do with unwanted kids before they’re born. One half of all black babies are aborted.”

“I never knew that,” Adam said.

“Some people think that’s better than to grow up unwanted,” Shane said. “I mean, look at the problem on the streets.”

Nathan weighed his words. “But does it occur to you that abortion isn’t just a symptom; it’s also an underlying problem? Black men, all men really, have been told abortion is between a woman and her doctor. Well, if I have no say over whether the child even lives, if that’s entirely the mother’s call, then why should I have anything to do with raising the child? The man is either the father of the child or he isn’t—you can’t have it both ways.”

“I’ve never thought about it like that,” Adam said.

David looked at Nathan. “Looks like you turned out all right.”

Nathan leaned back and smoothed his hands over his shaved head. “That’s because of a man in my neighborhood named William Barrett. When I was a teenager, just about to be swallowed up by a gang, he grabbed hold of me and wouldn’t let go. He mentored me and changed my life. Taught me about God. We still stay in contact, and he’s one of the reasons I wanted to move back to Albany. I want my kids to know him. Every Father’s Day, he’s the one I call.”

“Did he make up for you not having a dad?” Shane asked.

“Nothing makes up for that. I’m telling you, not having a father has scarred me in more ways than I can count. Not having a dad to watch me play ball, my mom working two jobs, so she couldn’t be there either. At times I was just sad. Other times I got real angry.”

David squirmed.

“Ever try to track him down?” Adam asked.

“I tried a few times. Then stopped. His name is Clinton Brown, but he uses aliases, so I always hit a dead end. I could have tried harder.”

“Why didn’t you?” Adam asked.

“Afraid of what I would say.”

After a long pause, Shane shifted uncomfortably, stood, and said, “Look, guys, I’ve enjoyed our little heart-to-heart, but I need to go pay some bills while there’s still something left of my paycheck.”

Shane turned to Adam. “Speaking of paychecks, I talked to my man, Javier, about your shed. That guy did a phenomenal job on my deck, and he’s available next week, but he wants $150 a day.”

“Ouch. Well, I’ve got to have somebody who knows what they’re doing. I’m taking vacation time—got to get it done. If he could be here 8:00 a.m. Monday . . . that would be great.”

“Okay, I’ll call him. See you in church tomorrow.”

“You got it.”

As Shane stood to leave, Nathan grabbed his Coke can and shot it from the other side of the table. It landed in the trash can.

Nathan smiled. “Told ya.”

Chapter Ten

The rest of the household lay calm, but Javier Martinez, dressed in old jeans and a dark-red T-shirt, was animated as he spoke on the phone at 7:30 a.m. “Great! Thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Good-bye.”

Javier’s wife, Carmen, walked into the kitchen wearing a robe. Hair frizzy, and with no makeup, she was groggy, having awakened minutes earlier. “Who were you talking to?”

Javier was putting on his construction boots. “I got the job! But I need to leave right now. They’re building a new office on Westover, and they need more men.”

“Thank God, Javy! The rent is due Friday. I would tell you to take the car, but the tank is empty.”

“I don’t mind walking when I have good news!”

Javier stood and put his hands on her shoulders, then gazed straight into Carmen’s eyes. “I told you God would give me a job.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I would give you a big kiss on the mouth,” he said playfully, “but your breath is very bad this morning.”

Javier left with a smile.

“I love you too,” Carmen said, only slightly sarcastically. She blew into her hand and inhaled, scowling. Her husband could be annoying, but he was a truthful man. She went to brush her teeth.

It took Javier nearly thirty minutes to reach the construction site. It was just after 8:00 a.m. when he walked briskly up to the foreman, who gave instructions to three men and sent them off to do their jobs.

“Hello, sir,” Javier said. “Are you Richard?”

“Yeah.”

“My name is Javier Martinez. I was told to come see you for work.”

“I just hired the last three guys we needed. Sorry, man; we’re good to go.” He walked toward the office.

Javier followed, pleading. “I can do most anything, sir . . . woodwork, brickwork, even drywall.”

“Look, I said I got what I need, all right?” The foreman turned and walked away. Javier stood there dismayed. He watched the other workers, waiting for someone to realize a mistake had been made. No one needed work more than he did. It was as if he were invisible. Nobody noticed.

After a few moments, reality sank in. His shoulders sagged, and he turned to go.

Javier wandered down a side street off Westover, face downcast. If only the car hadn’t been low on gas. If only the other men hadn’t gotten there first. If only they needed just one more guy.

As he walked aimlessly, Javier stepped off the street into an alley between houses. He began to pray aloud, facing the sky and gesturing.

“
Señor, no comprendo.
I am trying to provide for my family. I need Your help.
Por qué no me ayudes?
Have I done something to displease You?”

Javy walked on, his emotions turbulent, wishing for a rock to kick.

“
Dije a la familia que nos ayudaría.
I told my family You would help us, Lord. What can I tell them now? Are we going to lose our home?”

He stopped in the middle of the alley. Overwhelmed, he put his hands on his face, then stretched out his hands and cried, “What do You want me to do?
Dios,
por favor
, que debo hacer?
God,
please
show me what to do!”

Why did God seem so silent?

If Javier’s own children ever asked him for help finding work, he wouldn’t dream of refusing them. Then why was God refusing Javy?
Por qué?

“Hey, Javier!”

Javier blinked. Had he heard right? He turned and saw someone he didn’t know standing in a driveway sixty feet away, holding a tape measure.

“What are you doing?” the man asked him. Javier glanced over his shoulder to make sure the stranger wasn’t talking to someone else. But the man had called him by name.

“I’m not paying you $150 to just stand there! Let’s go!”

In the Mitchell yard, Adam snapped the tape measure shut and clipped it to his belt, then noticed the stunned expression on Javier’s face as he tentatively walked toward the yard.
Did I scare him? Maybe he doesn’t understand English.

“Adam, be nice!” Victoria approached Adam from the house, a water bottle in her hand.

“He’s late. He was just standing in the middle of the alley. I’m paying him by the day, and he’s not cheap!”

“You need his help, so you’d better start off on the right foot! Don’t go cop on him, okay?”

Adam sighed, then turned to Javier as he cautiously walked up the driveway.

Adam extended his hand. “You
are
Javier, right?”

Javier, wearing a bewildered expression, shook his hand. “Yes. I am Javier.”

“Adam Mitchell. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” He glanced at Victoria. “I should have come out and talked to you. This is my wife, Victoria.”

Victoria reached out her hand. “Hey, Javier, nice to meet you. I’ll go get you a water bottle.”

Adam pointed at the table. “Okay, I’ve got the plans for the shed right here. My old one’s falling apart. I figure it should take both of us a week or so. Wait. You didn’t bring any tools?”

“Uh, no.”

“All right, we’ll just have to share. Have you ever built a shed before?”

Javier gazed at the plans. “Yes.”

“Sorry. I don’t mean to put you on the spot, but do you have a work permit?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Good. Let me show you what we’re doing. But first, so there’s no misunderstanding, I want a solid eight hours of work, not counting breaks for water or looking up at the sky or talking to yourself. You’re good with $150 a day, right? Because if you’re looking for more, I need to know right now.”

“$150 a day . . . would be very good!”

“Okay. Good. Let’s get going!”

Adam and Javier leveled the ground and set concrete blocks for the foundation. After four hours of nonstop work, they had the rim joists leveled and the floor joists nailed to the hangers. Adam sat down to eat the lunch that Victoria brought for them. His shoulders ached. Javier walked over, put an apple in his mouth, and went back to work. Adam rolled his eyes.
This is the guy who was goofing off in the alley this morning?

Taking a big bite of his apple, Adam got up to join Javier.

Javier insisted on finishing the studs after Adam went in to get cleaned up. So at 6:30 that evening, when Javy was finally ready to go, Adam wrote him a check for $150.

Javier sang during most of his thirty-minute walk home. Hardly able to contain himself, he opened the door softly and peered in to see Carmen sitting with Isabel and Marcos, reading a book.

“Javy, is that you?”

Isabel and Marcos got up and ran to him.
“Papi! Papi!”

His children hugged his legs. He knelt and embraced them, unmindful of his sweat-drenched shirt.

“
Cómo están mis niños preciosos?
Have you been good for your mother?”

“Sí, Papá!”
Isabel said. “Come tell us a story!”

“I will, Isabel. Let me get cleaned up and eat. I have a special story to tell you. A true story that happened to your
papá
.
Hoy mismo!
”

“All right, get ready for bed and give Daddy a chance to eat.”

Isabel and Marcos ran down the hall toward their room. Javier sat at the kitchen table as Carmen opened the refrigerator and pulled out his dinner.

“How did the job go?”

“Terrible . . . then
wonderful
!”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I went to that job this morning, and they said they did not need me.”

Carmen stopped, plate in her hand. “You didn’t get the job? Where have you been all day?”

“That’s the thing. I was walking home asking God what He wanted me to do. I was hurt and confused. I didn’t understand why God didn’t help me when I try so hard to provide for my family. I asked Him to show Himself. Then, out of nowhere, this guy I had never seen before calls me by name and asks me to help him build a shed.”

“How could a stranger call you by name?” Carmen asked.

Instead of answering, Javier reached in his pocket and pulled out a check, then placed it on the table.

“You made
$150
today?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t understand. How did he know you? Why would he hire you off the street?”

“I have no idea.”

“Why didn’t you ask him?”

“I was scared. At first I thought he might be an angel, but he got angry when he hit his finger with his hammer. Plus, he is married and has children. I think this is not like angels.”

“Are you going back tomorrow?”

“Eight o’clock. He says he wants me to work all week. But I think we can finish in four days.”

“Four days at $150 a day? Javy, $600?”

Javier sat quietly, moisture gathering in his eyes. “Carmen, there have only been a few times in my life when I felt like God was helping my faith . . . and today was one of them. It felt so good to work hard, knowing He had answered my prayer.”

Carmen reached over and took his hand. “I think it is a miracle. But I know God loves you, Javy. He listens to you because you honor Him.”

Javier bowed his head.

“And all I want to do right now,” Carmen said, “is to hug you and to kiss you.”

Javier smiled and moved toward her, but she put up her hand. “But you smell so bad that I can’t bring myself to do it.”

Javier grinned at Carmen’s revenge for his comment about her breath. He wagged his finger and jumped up. “Give me fifteen minutes! Then I will tell the children my story, and I will see
you
when I am finished!”

“I will heat up your dinner,
mi amor
!”