Rainbow's End (18 page)

“All right, Steve. I'm listening.”

“I can sum it up pretty quickly for you. Since I didn't arrive until a few weeks after the…controversy…that led to your departure, I only had secondhand information and conjecture about what took place.”

“That's all anyone had. Including Ted Mackland, the so-called eyewitness.” Keith couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“They have more now. A year ago, Susan Reynolds accused the coach at the high school of the same thing when they were caught in a similar ‘compromising' situation.”

A shock wave rippled through Keith. “Mike Schwartz?”

“Yes.”

“That's ridiculous!” Keith knew that Mike and his wife had been having some marital problems two years ago, but he also knew the man had strong morals and would never break his marriage vows.

“Yes, it was. And he was determined to expose Susan. So he turned the tables on her. He confronted her in private, and they had a very interesting—and revealing—conversation. Which Mike recorded. Plus, he'd brought along a witness who remained out of sight until the conversation was over. When Susan realized that her vindictive scheme had backfired, she left her husband and disappeared from town. No one's heard from her since. Needless to say, that escapade pretty much led any doubters in your case to conclude that you'd been a victim, as well. With far more tragic consequences.”

In the silence that followed the man's revelation, Keith tried to process the unexpected turn of events. His status had changed from disgraced to vindicated. And it had changed a year ago—just about the time he'd started his travels, searching for answers and direction. Had he not cut all ties with the church, he might have discovered the truth sooner. Saved himself a wasted year of anguish and wandering.

Then again, if the truth had surfaced sooner, he would never have met Jill. Or Kyle. Or found the place, he knew in his heart, he was destined to call home. In the past twelve months, he'd learned to love again. And he'd found his way back to God. The year had hardly been wasted. In retrospect, it had been time well spent.

Still, that left him with a dilemma about his address to the congregation. But that wasn't the minister's problem. He was just grateful that the man had tipped him off in advance.

“I wasn't aware of any of that,” he told the pastor. “And you're right—I'll need to rethink my remarks. Thank you for sharing the information. And thank you, also, for letting me borrow your pulpit for a few minutes on Sunday.”

“It was your pulpit long before it was mine. And I'm happy to do my part to help make amends for the injustice you suffered.”

When Keith rang off and joined his father in the kitchen, the older man was setting the pot of stew in the center of the table.

“Just in time. Hope you're hungry.”

“Uh-huh.”

Bob Michaels stuck a ladle in the pot and cast a shrewd look at his son. “Bad news?”

“No. But I'm going to have to rewrite my remarks for Sunday.”

“Why is that?”

“I'll tell you all about it while we eat.”

After a brief blessing, Keith relayed the conversation to his father. “So I'm not sure what I'm going to say,” he concluded. “I'd planned to tell my side of the story, to do my best to set the record straight. But it seems that's already been done for me. I'm beginning to wonder if I should even go back.”

“Interesting turn of events, I'll grant you that.” His father helped himself to another serving of stew, his expression pensive. “You're here, though. And scheduled to speak. Maybe the Lord wants you to share a different message.”

Twin furrows creased Keith's brow. “Like what?”

“Well now, I'm not the preacher. That's your department, son. And I'm sure you'll figure it out. Why not pray about it, ask the Lord for direction? If He has another message in mind
for you to pass on, I expect He'll let you know. In the meantime, tell me about that nice landlady of yours.”

The abrupt change in subject disconcerted Keith for a moment. But thoughts of Jill always managed to distract him, and it didn't take long for him to shelve his preaching problem for later resolution and switch gears. A smile curved his lips and he rested his elbows on the table, his meal forgotten.

“She's very special.”

“I kind of figured that. Tell me all about her.”

Keith was happy to comply. And when he finished, his father's smile mirrored his own.

“This sounds pretty serious.”

“It is. And that brings me to a favor I'd like to ask.”

His father listened as Keith explained what he had in mind. Then he laid his work-worn hand on top of his son's, his eyes misty, his heart filled with gratitude for his answered prayers. “Consider it done.”

 

“Pretty remarkable, isn't it, when you lay them all out like this?”

Stunned, Jill stared at Kyle's drawings. They'd been done during therapy sessions over the past few weeks, and Marni had lined them up in sequential order on the conference table in her office. The heavy, dark tones of the early pieces had lightened and brightened with each subsequent drawing.

“It's amazing,” Jill replied.

“He's making good progress, and I credit most of that to you.” Marni began to gather up the drawings as she spoke. “Isn't it incredible how even a little love can bring sunlight into a dark world?”

“I got chocolate!” Kyle burst into the room, his eyes
glowing behind his horn-rimmed glasses. He held up a fistful of foil-wrapped kisses, retrieved from the receptionist's “treat” drawer.

“That is something special!” Jill dropped down to his level and smiled. “You can eat those when we get on the ferry. But first I promised Keith we'd pick up some pictures for him at the drugstore. And I have to stop at the market. So we need to hurry or we'll miss the boat.”

Standing, Jill turned back to Marni. “Thank you for sharing that.” She inclined her head toward the stack of drawings.

“Considering your profession, I thought you'd find it very interesting.”

“And encouraging. Is there anything more I can do to help the process along?”

The woman smiled. “As the saying goes, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. Just keep on doing what you're doing.”

With an answering smile and a nod, Jill reached for Kyle's hand. “Okay, sweetie, let's head out.”

After picking up Keith's prints and visiting the grocery store, they made it to the ferry just as the departure horn blew. Once aboard, Jill followed Kyle up the steep steps to the passenger lounge. She juggled the bag of film and her purse in one arm and hefted a large, frozen turkey in the other. When she reached the top she took a moment to catch her breath, keeping an eye on Kyle as he dashed toward the observation window to watch the departure. Then she headed toward one of the benches, anxious to lighten her load.

But as she leaned over to set the turkey on the seat, the four packs of photos slipped from the bag in her other arm, spewing images across the floor in a kaleidoscopic montage.

Muttering under her breath, she bent to scoop them
up…only to freeze, mesmerized by the pattern they revealed. It was almost a replay of what she'd seen less than an hour earlier in Marni's office, she realized. Like Kyle's drawings, Keith's photos showed a marked change over time. The first roll was easy to spot. It contained images that had been taken elsewhere, before Keith arrived on the island. Brooding and dark, many shot in low light or during stormy weather, they resonated with a sinister, threatening power. A power that could smother and crush and break. Those images frightened her, driving home how bleak Keith's outlook had been when he arrived on her doorstep.

But subsequent photos showed a distinct change. Since she was keenly attuned to the foliage and colors of the island, the seasonal sequence was pretty easy to follow. As the summer had passed, the images changed. Dark gave way to light, dull gave way to bright, despair gave way to hope. The most recent prints, including the one of Kyle cutting the ribbon on the studio, were filled with joy and warmth.

Though Jill had observed Keith taking photos on several occasions, she'd never seen any of his work. And she was impressed by his talent. He had a great eye for composition, and many of his photos were evocative, resonating with imagery and meaning.

But most of all, she was awed by what they revealed about the man. Something wonderful had happened to Keith during his stay at Rainbow's End. The proof of that was spread out before her.

Jill wasn't a psychologist. But Marni was, and her earlier words echoed in Jill's mind.

“Isn't it incredible how even a little love can bring sunlight into a dark world?”

Deep inside, Jill believed that. She'd seen it happen in her own life these past few months. And it seemed to have happened for Keith, too. The transformation in both their lives was confirmation of the truth in those familiar words from Paul: “Love never fails.”

Overwhelmed with gratitude, she gathered up the images and tucked them back into their envelopes. And in the silence of her heart she gave thanks.

“T
his morning we have a guest speaker, a man most of you know. He asked for a few minutes of our time today, and I was happy to oblige. Reverend Michaels, the pulpit is yours.”

As Reverend Thomas finished his introduction, Keith entered the sanctuary. A murmur spread through the congregation, like ripples from a pebble dropped into still water, as he stepped up to the pulpit and surveyed those gathered before him, assessing their reaction. Some people stared, their eyes wide with shock and surprise. Some flushed in embarrassment and looked away—including Ted Mackland, seated in his usual place, front and center. Some fidgeted, their discomfort evident. Others smiled in welcome. Ever since he'd decided to speak to the flock he'd once shepherded, Keith had been determined not to let the congregation's response sway him from his message. He was no less resolute now.

That message, however, had changed over the past couple of days, following his conversation with Steve Thomas. He looked toward the minister, who had taken a seat off to the side, and bolstered by his encouraging smile, Keith turned
his attention back to the congregation. Most of the faces were familiar. Gladys and Frank were in their usual spot, just to the right of center, and Gladys smiled at him, then nudged Frank when Keith looked their way. The new members seemed confused by the undertone of tension in the church.

“Good morning.” A slight tremor ran through his voice, and he took a slow, steadying breath to dispel it. When he resumed speaking, his tone was composed and measured. “Most of you know me. For those of you who don't, my name is Keith Michaels. I was the pastor here for twelve years. Two years ago, I left both this church and the ministry under difficult circumstances.” The confusion on the unfamiliar faces in the congregation began to dissipate, confirming that they'd heard the stories about him.

“Over the past two years, as I tried to put my life back together and make some sense of what had happened, I realized that I had unfinished business here. And that I wouldn't be able to move on until I shared with you my side of the story and set the record straight. I didn't know if you would believe me, but I knew I had to try. Reverend Thomas was kind enough to grant my request for a few minutes at the pulpit.

“But in the past couple of days, I found out that a year ago another incident occurred, similar to the one in which I was involved. Same perpetrator, different victim. Except this time the woman was exposed. I pray that all of you can now accept the truth of my innocence, as well.

“When I learned this news, I almost canceled my visit today. It seemed my message had already been delivered, in a far more convincing and conclusive way than mere words could ever convey. Then a very wise man suggested to me that
perhaps the Lord wanted me to keep this date—but to share a different message.”

Gripping the sides of the pulpit, Keith took a deep breath. “I puzzled over that for a while. What else could the Lord want me to talk about? I began aimlessly paging through my Bible, looking for inspiration, and all at once the words of St. Paul to the Ephesians seemed to jump off the page at me: ‘Be kind to one another, and merciful, generously forgiving one another, as also God in Christ has generously forgiven you.'”

The silence in the church was as still as a morning on Orcas Island. It was almost as if the members of the congregation had stopped breathing, so rapt was their attention.

“I knew, then, that this was the message the Lord intended me to deliver. And that it was meant as much—if not more—for me than for you. The fact is, many times in life bad things happen to us. Unfair things. Things that disrupt our world and reduce us to tears, to anger, to bitterness. No one is immune to those kinds of tribulations. Including me. But anger and bitterness are destructive emotions. They isolate us from each other and from God. Where anger and bitterness have taken root, love cannot grow. Nor can the seeds of forgiveness or hope or peace find fertile ground.

“I know this firsthand. For two years I asked God why He had taken from me so many of the things that mattered, that gave my life value. Over and over I pleaded with Him for answers, and over and over the only response was silence. In the end, I turned away from the Lord.

“Then I met someone who had also endured great trauma. Who had struggled with the same unanswered question, but who had finally found peace. When I inquired how, the reply was simple: ‘I stopped searching for answers. I stopped asking why.'

“That's when I began to realize that often there is no answer. At least, not one we can understand in our imperfect human state. I also realized something else: God doesn't call us to understand. Instead, he calls us to trust and to accept. And most of all, he calls us to forgive. To let the hate and anger and bitterness go and to open our hearts to His life-giving love.

“My friends, that's not an easy thing to do. I still struggle with it every day myself. But it's the path He calls us to. And that's the message I want to leave with you today. A message of hope and of love. And a belief that both of these things can be ours if we learn to accept without understanding, to forgive and to put our trust in the Lord.”

Once more Keith's gaze swept the room. “When I left here, I felt I'd been wronged and betrayed both by the people I had tried to help and by the God to whom I'd devoted my life. I was filled with bitterness and hate. But after a long struggle, I'm learning to let those destructive emotions go. And to forgive, as the Lord taught us. I ask that you pray for me as I continue that journey. Just as I will continue to pray that all of us will take the Lord's message to heart so that we can live in the fullness of His grace every day of our lives.”

When Keith finished, there was silence. But as he turned away from the pulpit, the crowd rose as one and applause rang through the small church. It followed him as he moved to the side and shook hands with Reverend Thomas. And it continued as the minister took his place behind the microphone. Only after a sustained ovation was the pastor able to resume the service.

Later, when the final hymn had been sung, Keith joined the minister in front to greet the worshippers. He was surrounded at once by members of the congregation who either wanted
to assure him they'd always believed he was innocent— Gladys and Frank were in that group—or who wanted to apologize for doubting him. Many of the elders fell into the latter category, including Ted Mackland. However, he waited until most of the people had gone before he approached his former pastor.

As the man drew close, Keith realized that he'd aged a great deal. He was more stooped than he'd been two years before, and his slow, uneven gait was steadied by a cane. His once-ruddy complexion had faded to an unhealthy pallor, and deep creases crisscrossed his face. A significant weight loss had robbed him of the hearty, imposing presence that had once allowed him to dominate the board of elders. Bottom line, he looked like a spent, sick old man. Someone more to be pitied than hated.

“You gave a good…talk today, Reverend.” Ted's stiff posture conveyed his discomfort with the situation, even as his slightly slurred, halting speech and the slack muscles on one side of his face explained his changed appearance. He'd had a stroke.

Keith gazed at the man who'd confirmed the story of his “indiscretion” to the church elders, whose staunch refusal to believe his pastor's version of the events had swayed the board to withdraw its support and urge him to resign. From all appearances, he'd been through a tough time. Keith knew that if Jill was here, she'd find it in her heart to show compassion, just as she had for Kyle's grandfather in the end, despite the man's faults. Surely he could do no less.
Help me, Lord, to follow her example,
he prayed.

“Thank you, Ted. I appreciate the kind words.”

The older man gave a stilted nod and steadied himself,
placing one hand atop the other on his cane. Or perhaps he was bracing himself, Keith speculated, as Ted stood a bit straighter and looked the man he'd accused in the eye.

“I'm glad you…came back, Reverend. When that…woman left town last year, I wanted to…try and contact you. Then I…had this stroke.” The apology in his eyes communicated his remorse even before he spoke the words. “I wanted to say…how sorry I was about…all that happened. You and I, we didn't…always see eye to eye. But you're…a good man, Reverend. I made a terrible…mistake. One I'll have to…live with until…the day I die. I've tried to…make my peace with the Lord. I only hope that someday…you can find that forgiveness you spoke about…this morning. Even though I surely don't…deserve it.”

There was no question in Keith's mind that the man's contrition was deep and real. The price he'd paid in regret and sorrow was etched on his face. How could Keith add to the already heavy burden that weighed down his heart?

All at once he felt the cold, bitter anger he'd harbored against the man for two long years begin to dissolve, melting like snow touched by the spring sun, leaving the ground ready for new life.

“If only those who deserved forgiveness received it, all of us would be lost,” Keith responded in a gentle voice. “It doesn't do any good to hold on to resentment. Or guilt. I'm learning to let mine go and move on with my life. It's time you did the same. With my blessing.”

Keith extended his hand, and after a moment Ted reached for it.

“God be with you.” Keith grasped the man's feeble hand in a firm grip.

“Thank you…Reverend.” Ted's voice was a mere whisper. But his sincere gratitude warmed Keith's heart.

As he limped away, Reverend Thomas joined Keith. “Ted has suffered a lot this past year. Not just physically,” he murmured, watching the man depart.

“I could tell. I hope he finds some peace now.”

“I have a feeling he will. And how about you, Keith? Did coming back here give you the closure you were seeking?”

His expression thoughtful, Keith turned back to the minister. There was a kindness in the man's eyes, and an understanding in their depths, that touched his soul. Though the sprinkling of gray in the dark hair at Steve's temples suggested that he might be ten or twelve years older than his guest, Keith sensed in him a kindred spirit. And knew that this was a man he could have called friend under different circumstances.

“To a large degree, yes,” Keith responded. “But I still have a little more work to do. Would you mind if I spend a few minutes in the chapel before I head back to Missouri?”

“Not at all. I left it unlocked. Just pull the door shut behind you.”

“I appreciate your support and hospitality today. Thank you.” He extended his hand.

“I was happy to help.” Steve returned the handshake. “Have a safe trip back.”

Left alone at last in front of the church he'd once thought of as his own, Keith slowly made his way back inside. Choosing a pew about halfway back, he sat on the polished wood and lifted his gaze to the simple cross that hung against the wall, facing the congregation. Finding his way home had been a long, arduous journey, fraught with loneliness and despair. But good had come out of it, too. His
faith was deeper now. He had a richer, fuller understanding of the darkness that could plague even a believer's soul. That, in turn, had enhanced his compassion and empathy. He'd found the peace of mind that comes only from true communion with the Lord, from surrender to His will. God's love once again flowed through him, filling his life with light and hope.

And along the way he'd also found human love. From a special woman and an endearing little boy, who even now awaited his return. And he was anxious to go. To leave the past behind and focus on the future. But first, he needed to say thank-you. He needed to take one final step on his journey toward forgiveness. And he needed to say goodbye.

Bowing his head, Keith clasped his hands between his knees and closed his eyes. He started with the thank-you—the easiest of the three tasks before him.

Lord, I thank You for the blessings You've given me these past two years. Even when I was mired in doubt, even when I was lost in darkness, even when I turned my back on You, I realize now that You were by my side. Just waiting for me to turn to You, to ask for help without demanding answers. To take Your hand in trust, as a child takes the hand of a loving father, knowing that he will be protected and cherished and guided safely through danger. I'm sorry it took me such a long time to see the light. To understand and accept the very words I preached in Your name for so many years—Come to me, all you who labor and are overburdened, and I will give you rest.'

I've found that rest now, Lord. And so much more. My time of trial and fire was difficult, but like gold in the smelter, I've been refined and purified. I'm a better person now than I would ever have been without the suffering and pain I
endured. I know I have a long way to go, but at least I feel I'm on the right path. And with Your help, I plan to stay the course.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, Keith turned to his next task. Forgiveness. He'd spoken of it earlier. And he'd made great progress. But could he take this final, most difficult step of all? For two long years, Susan Reynolds had been the primary object of his hate and anger. While he now accepted the trials that had befallen him, and could acknowledge the good that had come from them, it was hard to forgive the woman who had wreaked such havoc and destruction in his life. Whose vindictive actions had led to his wife's death. Whose malice had driven a wedge between Keith and the God who had been the center of his life.

And yet…could he blame Susan for all those things? Yes, she'd been the catalyst for them. But Ellen had spiraled into deep depression due to events that had nothing to do with the scandal. Keith had already been anxious about her emotional and mental stability. Had worried that she might take some drastic action. That was why he'd been calling home so often, why he'd had the neighbors checking on her. If the scandal hadn't triggered her death, wasn't it possible that something else would have? The answer was obvious: yes.