Grave Shadows (23 page)

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Authors: Jerry B. Jenkins,Chris Fabry

Tags: #JUVENILE FICTION / Religious / Christian

BOOK: Grave Shadows
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Chapter 92

At the memorial service the next day,
people stood and told what Jeff meant to them. It was neat to see so many kids from school who weren’t Christians and didn’t go to church. Just one more thing Jeff did that amazed me.

Teachers stepped to the microphone and tearfully talked about him. Our youth pastor, Andy, told a couple of really funny stories of things Jeff had said and done.

Mr. Alexander stepped forward and thanked everyone for their support and kindness. He held a piece of paper given to him by the people in the bike ride. When he read the figure, everybody clapped. “The newspaper says even more people are giving in Jeff’s memory.”

After Jeff’s dad sat down, I thought the pastor would conclude the service. Instead, a man in a blue suit stood. He said something to Jeff’s dad, then walked to the podium.

Everyone got quiet as the man began. “My name is Tim Minaro, and I’m here on behalf of Dream Makers. We’re a group that helps deserving kids realize some dream they’ve had. Many want to go to Disney World or meet someone famous. But Jeff Alexander was different.” He looked at Jeff’s mom and dad. “In fact, one of the things he asked us to do was keep this secret from everyone, even his parents. So, if you’d like to see Jeff’s dream, meet at the middle school after the service is over.”

I looked at Bryce. “DM. Dream Makers.”

Chapter 93

I had put everything together
except what was under the tarp outside the middle school.

Ashley pointed out a construction guy standing in front of the structure. “That’s the Jeppeson guy.”

A crowd filled the front of the parking lot as Tim Minaro stood on the back of a truck. Mr. Alexander handed him the box of stuff we had found at the haunted house.

Tim held a megaphone and clicked it on. “Ladies and gentlemen, what you’re about to see is the fastest fulfillment of a wish in the history of our organization. Our only regret is that Jeff couldn’t be here to see it. One of the things he told us was that there wasn’t that much to do in Red Rock.”

Everyone laughed.

“He said he wanted to give something to his friends and the kids who would come after him. With the help of Jeppeson Construction, this is the last wish of Jeff Alexander.”

The man pulled a string on the side of the tarp revealing a huge climbing wall. The crowd gasped when they saw that the wall was ridged at the top to look like the nearby red rocks. Around the base was a soft rubber pit. The wall was built so that you could climb on either side, and there were colored handholds all the way up.

I moved closer and saw something built into different levels of the climb. Insets in the wall housed footballs, baseballs, all the memorabilia Jeff had collected over the past few months. There were some empty spaces, and I guessed that’s what they were going to use the stuff in the box for.

“Is Bryce Timberline here?” Tim said.

I stepped forward and people clapped. The man helped me into the harness you wear when you climb. “Jeff said if he couldn’t be here, you should be the first to climb to the top.”

I looked back at all my friends, at Ashley and the rest of my family, and got a lump in my throat. Jeff knew I don’t really like heights, and though the climbing wall was safe, I felt a sudden panic. I took the first few grips quickly and was about five feet off the ground. The top of the wall looked a million miles away.

At 10 feet, I saw the letter from the president and read the whole thing. I kept moving, past the Elway football and Carmelo basketball. I made the mistake of looking down and nearly quit. It felt like I was on Mount Everest.

I closed my eyes, reached out my hand, and pulled myself up to the next rung.

“You can do it, Bryce!” I heard Dylan shout from below.

“Go, Bryce!” Jeff’s mom shouted.

It was all the encouragement I needed.

At the top of the wall, in the middle, was a built-in ledge where you could sit and look at the view. I set my eyes on it and didn’t look down again. When I pulled myself to a sitting position and turned around, everybody clapped and cheered. I raised both fists to the sky.

It was then that I noticed a piece of paper taped over the ridge. I pulled it off and opened it.

Bryce,

You’ve been a great riding partner and friend. I wish I could be there with you right now, but trust me, I’ve got a view of my own that’s pretty incredible. Looking forward to seeing you soon.

Your friend,

Jeff

I put the paper down and wiped my eyes. It was almost as if Jeff were speaking to me from the grave, though I knew he’d probably dictated the note by phone while we were on our ride.

I looked at Pikes Peak in the distance and the front range of mountains. The sun lit everything so brightly that it looked like a picture.

I was about to climb down when I realized Jeff’s letter had covered something built into the wall. It was a plaque with Jeff’s picture. He was smiling that trademark smile of his.

Underneath the plaque was this verse:

A friend is always loyal, and a brother is born to help in time of need.

I looked at the sky through blurry eyes. There weren’t any birds or seagulls flying. No angels singing or music playing. Just the sound of a hundred kids saying, “It’s my turn!”

Epilogue

Gunnar was spotted a few days later
at a casino west of Denver. Someone recognized him from his photo in the paper, and the police took him into custody, I guess to protect him from the goons. Bryce and I hope he gets help and turns things around.

Hayley and her aunt thanked us for what we did, but we said it wasn’t that big of a deal. We love solving mysteries, even if they don’t all have happy endings.

The total raised from Jeff’s ride was more than $100,000. The newspaper says that figure could go higher.

Every time a kid climbs the wall, they see a little of Jeff’s life and read the verse that meant so much to him. After Jeff died, we noticed some people at church who had never been there before.

Every person’s life—no matter how long or short—touches others. We were lucky to call Jeff Alexander our friend.

Our lives will never be the same.

About the Authors

Jerry B. Jenkins
(
jerryjenkins.com
) is the writer of the Left Behind series. He owns the Jerry B. Jenkins Christian Writers Guild, an organization dedicated to mentoring aspiring authors. Former vice president for publishing for the Moody Bible Institute of Chicago, he also served many years as editor of
Moody
magazine and is now Moody’s writer-at-large.

His writing has appeared in publications as varied as
Reader’s Digest, Parade, Guideposts,
in-flight magazines, and dozens of other periodicals. Jenkins’s biographies include books with Billy Graham, Hank Aaron, Bill Gaither, Luis Palau, Walter Payton, Orel Hershiser, and Nolan Ryan, among many others. His books appear regularly on the
New York Times, USA Today, Wall Street Journal,
and
Publishers Weekly
best-seller lists.

Jerry is also the writer of the nationally syndicated sports story comic strip
Gil Thorp,
distributed to newspapers across the United States by Tribune Media Services.

Jerry and his wife, Dianna, live in Colorado and have three grown sons and three grandchildren.

Chris Fabry
is a writer and broadcaster who lives in Colorado. He has written more than 40 books, including collaboration on the Left Behind: The Kids series.

You may have heard his voice on Focus on the Family, Moody Broadcasting, or Love Worth Finding. He has also written for Adventures in Odyssey and Radio Theatre.

Chris is a graduate of the W. Page Pitt School of Journalism at Marshall University in Huntington, West Virginia. He and his wife, Andrea, have been married 22 years and have nine children, two birds, two dogs, and one cat.

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