The Exiles (27 page)

“I remember that! I was coming to speak with you after the sermon, but you vanished. I had no idea it was you, of course.”

“Yes. I was ashamed. But I remember your sermon so well.”

“Well, that’s a compliment. Some people can’t remember what I say the next day.”

“But how did you find God? Were you in a church?”

“No. I was all by myself. As a matter of fact, I was in the middle of a busy street. I had been thinking about my mother, longing to see her in eternity, and I’d been reading the Scripture. And, of course, I’d heard preaching on the new birth for a long time.”

“The new birth?”

“Yes. Do you remember in the third chapter of John the story of the man called Nicodemus?”

“I do remember. I thought it was very strange that this man came to see Jesus by night.”

“Yes, he might have been ashamed because Jesus was known as the friend of sinners. Respectable Jews would have nothing to do with known sinners. That’s why Jesus disturbed them so greatly, Chantel. He talked with them, laid His hands on them, prayed for them. The so-called respectable religious leaders found that offensive.”

Chantel turned to face Neville, her eyes luminous by the light of the flickering lantern overhead. “But that is what I found so wonderful about Him. The love that He had for everyone.”

“Yes. That’s what I felt, too, and still do. But I do not understand when He told Nicodemus, ‘You must be born again.’”

“Perhaps we’ll never understand all of it, but the Bible clearly teaches that we have very bad hearts. The book of Romans says, ‘All have sinned and come short of the glory of God.’ We haven’t all sinned alike,” he added quickly. “Some have sinned more hideously than others, but that doesn’t excuse us. What is necessary is that we understand that we all need God.”

“Oh, yes, I believe that!”

“I’d read the Bible before, and a verse had come into my heart that said, ‘Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.’ That verse stuck in my memory. I thought about it night and day, but I didn’t know what it meant. I thought I had already called on God. I carried that with me in my head almost like an echo.

“One day I was walking along a busy street thinking about this, people everywhere, all around me, talking and laughing and shouting. And then the verse came again. ‘Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.’ And at that moment, Chantel, I was pretty desperate. And I didn’t call out loud, although I think my lips moved. I just said, ‘God, I need You, and I’m calling on You. Your word promises that if I call, I’ll be saved. So I’m calling right now, and I’m asking You in the name of Jesus and by His blood to save me.’”

“And what happened?”

“Well, this sounds odd, but nothing much really happened. The crowd was still there. I didn’t feel any different. There were no flashes of lightning. I went on about my work that day, and I thought a few times about what I had done, but it didn’t seem to be any different. But that night when I went to bed, I went to sleep almost at once, and then I had a dream that I was in some place that I had never seen. It was beautiful place, although I can’t describe it. I never could remember the details, and then I heard a voice that said, ‘Neville, you have called on Me, and you are now in the family of God. You have been saved from your sins.’ And then I woke up, and I felt so strange. I got out of bed. I walked the floor. I knew it was only a dream, but it was so real, Chantel! And I determined right then that I was going to believe what I had done was real—and I did.”

“But did you ever feel anything?”

“Oh, yes, many times. As I began to pray and study and draw near to God, I felt a peace that I had never known. And then, after a time, joy began to fill me. Just a little at first. But then finally one day, I knew I wanted more of God, so I called on Him again and asked Him simply to fill me with His spirit so that I could worship Him. And this time He answered my prayer right away. I began to praise God, and as I worshipped Him, great joy came to me.”

“And is it still there?”

“The knowledge that I’m saved is always there, but sometimes I feel depressed. Even then I know what happened is the most real thing in my life, and I know Jesus is in my heart.”

Chantel fell utterly silent, and Neville did not speak. Finally he said, “Are you troubled, Chantel?”

“I—I have nothing like that in my heart. I have always been in church, but I do not know God like you do.”

Neville hesitated and then said, “Would you like to?”

“Oh, more than anything in the world, but I don’t know how. It sounds too simple.”

“As a matter of fact, the Bible says that it is simple. If it were a complex matter that only a genius could understand, I’d be lost and going to hell. But all you need to do, Chantel, is believe that Jesus is the Son of God and He died for your sins. Just ask Him to cleanse those sins and take Him into your heart.”

Again Chantel was silent, and finally Neville said, “Would you like to have Jesus in your heart?” She did not answer, and he saw that she was trembling. “I don’t believe we can push anyone into the kingdom, but you remember this. I was converted when I was not in a church, and no minister or priest was talking to me—and you can find Him the same way.”

Chantel found it difficult to speak. She was frightened, somehow, of his words. Quickly she rose and said, “I think I should go to bed.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Neville said. “Come. I’ll walk with you to your room.”

They entered the hotel and walked together until they came to her room. She unlocked her door, then turned to him, and he saw that she was deeply troubled.

“Don’t be afraid of Jesus, Chantel,” Neville said. “He means only good for you.”

“Good night, Neville.”

Chantel turned and shut the door. She leaned back against it and knew that she was greatly moved. She wondered at herself and at her response to Neville’s words. Finally she prepared for bed, and when she closed her eyes and pulled the covers up, she found herself thinking of Jesus as the Savior, the Christ. She almost cried out as Neville had for Him to come into her heart. Finally she tried to sleep, but the words kept coming back:
Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved
—and the strange Scripture that she could not forget—
You must be born again.

Finally she trembled, and fear rose in her, but along with that fear a great desire came. She got out of bed, knelt beside it, and prayed, “Oh, God, I am so confused. You know me, and You know that I really want You. So, I’m going to do what Neville did. I’m going to call on You.”

And there on her knees in that hotel room, Chantel Fontaine called on God with all her heart. She never could remember the exact words she said, but for a long time she cried out for God in desperation.

Finally she grew cold. She got back into the bed, and she felt totally exhausted. But somehow she felt satisfaction.
I’ve called on God, and I’ve asked Him to save me. That’s all Neville did.
She snuggled down into the bed, pulled the covers closer and said, “I’m trusting You, Jesus, to be in my heart.” Then almost at once she fell asleep.

The next morning Chantel awoke, and the first thing she thought of was,
I called on the Lord, and I’m going to believe that I will have the same spirit Neville has. I’m going to believe I will know God better every day.
All of her training had been that the more prayers that one said, the better it was. She had her rosary with her, but she did not reach for it. Instead she simply knelt and said, “Lord, I’m believing that You are faithful and that You have saved me, and I thank You for that in Jesus’ name.”

She got up and began to sing as she got ready to go downstairs. She found herself thinking of her sister, and somehow faith rose stronger in her, and she said, “God, I know You’re going to hear our prayers.”

When she got downstairs, she found Neville and Yves already in the restaurant. When their food came, she began to eat hungrily, and she listened as Yves spoke of what he had discovered. “I found a man whose name is Broussard—Michael Broussard. He says we’re crazy for wanting to go into Bayou Teche and find Simon Tubberville.”

“But he’ll go with us and show us the place?” Neville demanded.

“He’ll go part of the way.” Yves shook his head. “This fellow Tubberville, he’s got a terrible reputation. He’s been in jail more than once, and Broussard says he’s a killer. He got into a fight here in a saloon, and kicked a man to death with his boots.”

What a horrible man for my sister to be with!
Chantel thought. But though the knowledge of such a terrible man frightened her, there was no other option. “When can we go?” she asked.

“Right away,” Yves said. “Broussard’s waiting for us. I hope you have some money. I had to promise him plenty of it, Neville.”

“I’ve got the money. Let’s go.”

“How will we actually do this, Neville? I mean—what if he won’t let her go?”

“I don’t think we can make much of a plan. I hope money will settle it, but if not—we’ll do whatever we have to do.”

Chapter twenty-four

“This is Michael Broussard. He expects to be paid ten pounds for taking us into the swamp,” Yves said.

Broussard was small and very thin but with a wiry strength that was obvious in his bared forearms. He wore a pair of dark blue wool trousers, a gray sweater over a white shirt, and a wool cap perched on the very back of his head. His eyes were quick as a squirrel’s as he glanced around.

Neville was inclined to offer only part of the fee, but he knew it was no time to bargain. He took out his wallet, extracted some notes, and handed them over. Broussard stuck them carelessly in the pocket of his trousers and said, “I have to have the money up front, you see, because, well, you may not come back soon.”

“You mean we may not come back at all?” Neville asked, lifting his eyebrows.

“That could happen. Personally, I think you are crazy to go in there. Simon Tubberville is not a man who welcomes company. One of his own daughters run off some time ago.”

“Do you know why?” Chantel asked.

“I reckon the old man was too rough on her.”

“We have to go,” Neville replied, “so do the best you can for us.”

“Very well. We go now.”

By the time they reached the edge of the bayou, the sun was already climbing high in the sky. The road leading west out of Baton Rouge was even worse than the one coming from New Orleans. At times it was nothing but a two-lane track of mud. Broussard led the way on horseback, and once the carriage became so mired that it was all the men and the horses could do to get it free.

The weather was turning colder, and a bitter wind sprang up out of the north. The earth was gray and brown with deadness, and the gloomy overcast seemed to dampen Chantel’s spirit. After leaving the main road, they followed Broussard until they were traveling on what seemed to be no more than a path. It was barely possible to get the carriage through.

Finally Broussard pulled up his horse and pointed. “There is my place. We can put the horses in the barn.”

The house was no more than a shack, and half a dozen children scrambled out to greet Broussard. He dismounted and hugged them. Then, as Chantel got out of the buggy, he said, “This is my wife, Hannah. Come, if you want to go inside. I will put the horses up.”

Hannah Broussard was a surprisingly cheerful woman, not pretty, but with a vivacious air. She fed them a lunch of fresh bread and blue crabs cooked in a way Chantel had never seen before.

Neville insisted on paying for it, and when the meal was over, he looked toward Broussard, saying, “Can we go now?”

“It will be late, but I think it best. I will take care of your horses while you’re gone.”

He led the way out to the edge of the swamp, where three small, fragile-looking boats were tied up. “We will have to take all three boats, for I am not waiting in that swamp for you. You can bring my boats back here—if you come back at all.”

“Cheerful fellow, isn’t he?” Yves whispered to Chantel as they approached the boats. He touched one with the toe of his boot and shook his head. “I hope they float.”

As Chantel got in, she realized how small the boats were. “What are these things called?” she asked Broussard.

“We call this boat a
pirogue.”

Chantel got into one of the small boats with Broussard. The two men each got in another, and they all shoved off. Broussard balanced himself, standing up and using a pole to propel along. The other two men struggled awkwardly.

“This is a sorry way to get from one place to another,” Yves said under his breath.

“But the only way. We’ll just have to learn,” Neville said.

They traveled until the sun had passed the meridian. It was a world that Chantel did not know. Cypress trees rose on either side of them, blocking out the feeble sun so that it was twilight under the canopy. From time to time she sensed things alive in the swamp around, but her eyes were not quick enough to catch them. Once a horrible scream came to her, and she started. “What was that?” she asked Broussard.

“A panther. He will not hurt you here, mademoiselle, but do not get caught out alone after dark on dry land.”

Finally Broussard pulled his boat onto what appeared to be dry land, as dry as anything could be in this world. He pulled the prow up and held out his hands. “This is where you must walk,” he said.

Chantel took his hand and stepped out, and they waited until the men had pulled their boats in.

“Me, I go home. Here, I have drawn this map for you. I am not good at drawing.”

The three travelers bent over the map. It was indeed poorly drawn, but Broussard pointed out landmarks. “You will see a big cypress that has grown in two, like a ‘V,’ you know?” He held his forefinger and his middle finger spread wide apart. “Last time I was there, there were big birds nesting in the top, but maybe not now. The road divides there. You take the left turn. Be sure you take the left or you miss them.”

Yves and Neville went over the map several times, asking questions and adding to it as Broussard remembered other things. Finally Broussard said, “I will wait here for you until dark. If you don’t come back, I will go on. But I will leave these two boats. You bring them back to my house. Right?”