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Authors: Karen Kingsbury

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BOOK: On Every Side
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Miss Dirk seemed to rub a smile off her face, and she squeezed Rosa's shoulder real soft like. “Of course.”

Rosa nodded, glad Miss Dirk knew the truth. “It's just a reminder of Jesus. Sort of like when I draw a picture of Him in Sunday school.” Her smile was back again. “I think it's the bestest picture in the whole world, Miss Dirk. Because my Jesus—” she held out her arms so that her hands were stretched out toward
heaven— “my Jesus is even bigger than the trees. And He always has His arms open for me to hug Him anytime I want.”

Miss Dirk's eyes looked kind of wet and shiny but she smiled. “Yes, honey, that's right. Anytime you want.”

“Like when I'm thinking about having a mommy and a daddy and wondering when God's going to bring them to meet me. That's when it's really nice to remember just how big my Jesus is.”

Miss Dirk blinked at Rosa. “Some sad people are trying to take the Jesus statue down. Did Miss Faith tell you that?”

A sick feeling filled up Rosa's tummy and she dropped the puzzle piece in her hand. “Take it down? You mean like take it away so it isn't in the park anymore?”

“Yes, honey.” Miss Dirk covered Rosa's hand with her own. Rosa made herself think as hard as she could, but no reasons came to her. Why would anyone want to take the Jesus statue down? Then she got an idea, and her heart grew kind of jumpy. “Is Faith going to stop them? She likes the Jesus statue, too.”

“Well, that's just it, Rosa. That's what Faith's doing today. She's meeting with a lot of people from the town who like the statue, and they're going to pray for the sad people who want to take it down. That's why she can't come and play with you today.”

What? Faith would be praying for the sad people? Rosa sat up straighter and pulled her knees beneath her. “Then I need to be there, Miss Dirk. It's my statue too. Faith would want me there, praying with her, I know she would.”

Her social worker smiled, and Rosa knew the answer was no. “You have school today I can't keep you home so you can pray with Faith.”

As soon as she said the words, Miss Dirk's face looked the same way it had one night when she burned the squash and ate a whole bite of it anyway. Rosa leaned closer. “But Faith told me
there's nothing more important than praying. It's the whole rea-son we're here on earth.”

Miss Dirk put her elbows on the table and slumped over a little. She stayed that way for a long time and finally she looked at Rosa, her lips squished together. “Oh, all right. What could it hurt?”

Rosa jumped from her seat, clapped her hands, and danced about the kitchen floor. She spun and twirled her way in front of Miss Dirk and stopped only long enough to get more information. “When can we go, huh? Is Faith already there?”

Miss Dirk looked at the big clock on the wall and nodded. “Probably.” She tugged on Rosa's shirt, straightening out the wrinkles. “Go get your sweater, and I'll take you there now.”

Rosa clapped some more and hurried her feet up the stairs to the closet she shared with two older girls. She grabbed her sweater, pulled it around her shoulders, and checked the mirror. A piece of her hair was sticking out above her ears, and Rosa tucked it in neatly and smiled at herself. Faith was right. Jesus had made her a very pretty girl. She waved at herself real quick and skipped back down the stairs.

If Faith was going to pray for the sad people who wanted to take the statue down, then Rosa was sure everything would work out just fine. God would see to that. She waited by the door for Miss Dirk to get her coat and keys and grinned quietly to herself. Even if it wasn't sunny outside, it was going to be a wonderful day after all. She was going to spend it talking with her two favorite people in all the world.

Faith Evans and her best friend, Jesus.

The six o'clock news used the protest at the Jesus statue as their lead story, and Joshua watched it closely in his living room, his
wife at his side. Two of the three major networks chose to play Faith as the primary local angle, saying things like, “Former WKZN newscaster Faith Evans—who lost her job because of her role in the fight to keep the Jesus statue standing—led the protest at Jericho Park this morning…” and “The battle has already been costly to local residents, especially Faith Evans, who was removed from her position as anchor for WKZN because of her role in the fight to keep the Jesus statue…”

Joshua watched for many reasons.

First, he wanted to see the way the statue looked with walls around it. He hadn't been able to bring himself to drive by the park that afternoon, hadn't wanted to stomach the sight of the statue walled up with plywood, so the pictures on the news were his first chance to see the effects of the judge's ruling.

Also he wanted to get a feel for the residents’ heart on the issue, whether they were tired of the battle or willing to go the distance to see their statue standing proudly the way it had stood for a hundred years prior.

Two minutes into the newscast, he could see that none of the city's supporters were losing their fervor. If anything, their numbers had grown, making the crowd a considerable force as they marched around the park while workers erected the ply-wood wall. Every station carried several sound bites from Faith and featured her in much of the taped footage. In several shots Joshua saw a little Asian girl at Faith's side, a child no older than five or six who looked at Faith with wide, adoring eyes. He tried to remember where he'd seen her before and it hit him.

She was the little girl featured a few weeks back on the
Wednesday's Child
program, the one Faith had hosted. Obviously Faith's love for the girl went beyond her role as an interested reporter. He watched as Faith's face filled the screen and a
reporter asked her whether the battle of Jericho Park was worth losing her job over.

“Recently I've come to understand that there's nothing more important, more sacred than your convictions.” She smiled in a way that was contagious among the reporters, disarming them, Joshua noticed, before they might realize what was happening. “I believe the people have a right to their statue… our statue. Even if it does depict the central figure in the Christian faith. This is the kind of battle that's worth fighting.” She smiled again, a smile void of animosity “My father taught me that.”

There was something about Faith's openhearted smile that touched Joshua deeply As though she held no anger toward the people at HOUR or the station manager who had fired her, but rather a deep compassion. It was not something that could be faked, and Joshua knew it was the same love for people her father had carried in his heart during his days battling for reli-gious freedom.

The camera moved in on Faith once more as she bent to give the little girl a hug, and suddenly Joshua was struck by Faith's beauty.
Oh, Bob, if you could see her now… Lord if You could let him know…
How proud his old partner would have been of his daughter. Little Faith, all grown up. Joshua thought back and in his mind he saw her as a girl, running across the backyard with the other kids during a family barbecue. Now she was poised and confident, filled with a peace that Joshua knew could only come from one source.

The segment drew to a close, but the image of Faith remained in Joshua's heart.

She was simply breathtaking, both in appearance and in the purity of her convictions. He leaned back into the sofa and won-dered if somewhere in New York City, Jordan Riley was watching the same newscast. And whether the attorney's desire to see the
Jesus statue removed could possibly be stronger than the feelings he must be having for the very special young woman who'd once been his friend.

A woman who had risked everything to see the statue remain standing.

Nineteen

J
ordan flipped off the television and stretched out on his leather sofa, his hands folded beneath his head. The news-cast had clearly favored Faith, and that surprised him. Normally the media would take HOUR'S side and make a woman like Faith look fanatic. Instead they'd given her ample time to share her point of view and done nothing to contradict it. The fact that the local networks had footage of the wall going up only made Faith look more like the persecuted victim.

The overall effect was that justice had been thwarted, not meted out on the public's behalf.

Jordan replayed the images of Faith again in his mind and felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. He knew he should be angry What right did the people of Bethany have to demand a statue of Jesus Christ remain standing in a public park? A ripple of frustration worked its way down his spine, but only a ripple. Normally he'd be furious with the way the story was handled, ready to hold a press conference the next day with the walled-up statue in the background, and slam every angle Faith had chosen to discuss.

Instead the only reason he wanted to go back to Bethany was to find Faith and tell her what a great job she'd done, how suc-cessfully she'd managed to articulate her point of view without looking like a religious fundamentalist. He caught himself grin-ning again at the memory of her poise, of the beauty that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside. What was it about her that had worked its way so thoroughly into his heart? And why was it
happening now, when they were on opposite sides of a national legal battle?

The phone rang, and Jordan blinked back the images of Faith. It was nearly seven o'clock and he'd been so caught up in the newscast he hadn't even considered fixing dinner.

“Hello.”

“Jordan, it's T. J.” His friend sounded nervous, and an alarm sounded in the sensory panel of Jordan's mind. Ever since the hearing the week before things had been strange at the office, as though people were carrying around some kind of secret and Jordan was the only one not in the loop. He'd tried to dismiss the feelings, chock it up to the fact that he had a lot going on. But the signs that something wasn't right continued.

He sat up. “What's up?”

“I'm at the office still and…well, a bunch of us saw the Philadelphia news a few minutes ago.”

A bunch of them? “What, Teej, a party and I wasn't invited?” He did his best to sound casual, but his concern rose a notch. Why were they so interested in his case? And why hadn't they included him?

T. J.'s brief laugh sounded hollow.” Not a party, just a chance to see how the local media's playing the story”

“Let me guess…there aren't a lot of smiles in the room.” Jordan intentionally kept his tone light, not wanting to validate T. J's seriousness.

“Well… uh, Mr. Hawkins is here, and the other partners. They wanted me to call and see if you'd watched it.”

“Yeah, I watched it. So what do they want me to do? Put a contract on the girl?”

There was silence on the other end.” They're not laughing, Jordan.” T J. had lowered his voice, and Jordan figured the oth-ers in the room had resumed talking. “The coverage was bad.”

Jordan sighed, raking the fingers of his free hand over his knee. “I saw it, remember? I know it was bad. How does that involve me?”

Voices in the background grew louder and for a moment there was no one on the other line. Then, “Riley, this is Hawkins.”

Jordan hung his head. Why were they so relentless this time around? Wasn't it like any other issue HOUR battled? Jordan's insides squirmed as though he'd developed an ant farm deep in his gut. Something just didn't add up… “Hey Mr. Hawkins, I guess you saw the news?”

“That girl is killing us, Riley. She must be stopped.”

Jordan released a sound that was part exasperation, part chuckle. “She has a right to be interviewed by the press, sir. You understand that, right?”

“So where's our presence, Riley? Why're you back here in New York while those religious do-gooders take up the entire six o'clock news?”

Jordan stood and paced toward a large window that over-looked swarming city streets far below. His stomach churned and he realized he'd lost his appetite. “Have you checked my case-load, sir? The Jesus statue isn't the only case I'm working on.”

There was a pause. “Well, it is now I'll get someone else on your other matters. Starting tomorrow I want you in Bethany, Pennsylvania, making yourself available to the. media and seeing that this thing gets turned around.” Hawkins voice was a study in controlled fury, and again Jordan was struck by a sense of incon-gruity What did they want? There were walls around the statue, weren't there? Besides, HOUR would carry on whether the Jesus statue stood or not. After all,
he
was the one who'd found it in the first place. How had it suddenly taken top precedence at the
firm? “Fine. I'll pack tonight and leave first thing in the morning.”

Hawkins seemed only slightly appeased by Jordan's answer. “We want a press conference tomorrow afternoon, a victory state-ment, something the rest of us can identify with.”

Jordan leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the win-dow Why had he ever become an attorney in the first place? He should have been a fireman like his buddy Chip from the boys’ camp. Fighting fires
had
to be less stressful than this. “Yes, sir… I'll schedule it as soon as I'm in town.”

Hawkins uttered what Jordan figured was supposed to be a sigh, but it sounded more like the hiss of a snake. “You won't let us down, will you, Riley?”

No one had ever asked him that before, ever doubted that he gave everything to his work. Jordan felt his face contort as he tried to make sense of Hawkins's comment. “Of course not, sir. I'm the one who found this case, remember?”

“That's true.” Finally there was a degree of confidence in Hawkins's tone. “And when it's over there'll be a bonus in it for you, Riley. Keep that in mind.”

“A bonus?” The partners got healthy bonuses at the end of every year, and now and then a productive attorney, one who billed out more hours than his peers, might see a small bonus as well. But no one he knew had ever been offered a bonus for a single case.

“Ten thousand dollars, Riley. You get a permanent wall, ten feet high, around that statue and you earn yourself ten grand.” He paused while the figures sank in. “Have I made myself clear?”

Jordan straightened and felt the blood drain from his face. Whatever had happened, it apparently involved a third party. A very wealthy, very influential third party. One that wanted the Jesus statue gone as badly as every attorney at the HOUR organi-zation.

BOOK: On Every Side
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