The People in the Park (13 page)

Meanwhile, I was left to sit by myself and enjoy the service. The vibrant, lively soul-stirring music enveloped me and carried me outside of myself.

Majestic! Reverent! The whole atmosphere surrounded me and lifted me to a higher level. It wasn’t just the Praise Singers. The entire congregation was on its feet singing and swaying to the music. But I just sat there taking it all in. Their voices were glorious.

The minister of music stepped to the podium. “All over this building with your hands lifted up, ask God to come into your hearts and into your lives.” Then he turned back to the choir and another song. The church was rocking!

As the music continued, I could feel my heart soften. Soon I was on my feet singing along with everybody. I didn’t know that music had the ability to transcend and transform. The people were openly praising and worshipping God. This was a new experience for me. There were so many feelings that I felt. Each song soothed my soul and quieted my fears. The choir sang a mixture of traditional, contemporary gospel, and spirituals. Each song had the ability to touch me in ways I never imagined.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me

I once was lost but now am found

Was blind but now I see

T’was Grace that taught

My heart to fear

And Grace, my fears relieved

How precious did that Grace appear

The hour I first believed

Through many dangers, toils, and snares

We have already come

T’was Grace that brought us safe thus far

And Grace will lead us home

As we sang the hymn, church members went to each visitor and greeted them. I was embraced warmly and welcomed to the church with smiles and well wishes. Before the sermon, the choir sang again. This time Tiffany was the lead singer. Her voice rang out with such spirit. I was amazed at the ability of her voice to caress each note and touch my heart.

The sermon transfixed me. It was as if the pastor was speaking directly to me. He started with a scripture from the book of Psalms. “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” He explained that life can be difficult and sometimes painful. But if we put our faith in God, He will help us. We can take shelter in Him. He said we would find peace for today, strength for tomorrow, and hope for a brighter future. When he finished, he invited everyone who hadn’t done so to invite God into their hearts. The choir sang while the pastor admonished, “Don’t let go until God blesses you.”

People from across the building moved to the altar. I felt tears streaming down my face, and before I knew it I, too, was down front. For so long, I had felt empty inside, now my heart was overflowing. I wanted to feel that peace inside me. I wanted God’s strength to get through my tomorrows. But most of all I wanted hope for the future. Right then, I invited God into my heart.

I felt someone take my hand. It was Tiffany. She had come from the choir to stand with me. Then I felt arms around my shoulders. They were Aunt Ira’s arms. She was standing with me too. As I poured out my heart to God, I felt as if my burdens had been lifted. And I felt the love of my family.

A celebratory song ended the service. We left church with friends of Uncle Bob and Aunt Ira’s. We followed them to their house where we had dinner. Again, I was welcomed into the fold and treated with kindness and made to feel like one of the family.

Aunt Ira kept hugging me. “I’m so glad you came down to the altar to invite God into your life,” she said when we had a moment alone. “But don’t expect everything to suddenly work out. Faith is a journey, one you will be walking all your life.”

That night, back at Tiffany’s house, we played board games and a card game. Aunt Ira reigned as queen of games. I almost took her crown once, but she rallied and beat me by one point. There’s no point in comparing my family to Tiffany’s family. We are each a part of the other. Being in one family is not better than being a part of the other family.

I missed the camaraderie our families used to have when I was younger. Even though we had all gotten busier as the years passed, we shouldn’t have lost that special family closeness. I wish I could get it back. But Dad had a new job in Atlanta. We were moving. There was no way I could be close to Tiffany and Aunt Ira again if I moved away.

I loved my weekend here, and I’ll remember it forever because I got my soul back. And most importantly, not one snarl from Tiffany all weekend.

I was beginning to discover a part of me that I didn’t know existed, or had forgotten existed. Being part of an extended family and loving it.

27

Traffic was horrible.

The drive back to Fairfield was long, with lots of stop and go traffic and accidents along the way. I was grateful we lived in Fairfield. At least I didn’t have to navigate traffic every morning on the freeway. A very stressful drive. Cars cutting in front of others without any warning. And people driving like maniacs across three lanes to make an exit. Madness. Now I could appreciate Dad’s desire to shelter me from the masses. We didn’t have bumper-to-bumper traffic in Fairfield.

I was glad I had left Tiffany’s house at six a.m. I arrived at the park at my usual time. The water in the Missouri River was turbulent and filled with debris. I was amazed at what I saw. Huge logs floated atop the rapidly swirling water. Dead tree trunks drifted by. As I contemplated the storms and flooding that occurred in the cities and towns upriver to cause the water to be filled with such junk, Sidewinder stopped running and came over to look at the river.

“I’ve never seen it this bad,” he said, nodding at the river. “There was flooding in Iowa last week. It’s amazing what the river will claim.”

Pipes and other large pieces of metal sailed past us. I didn’t say anything. I was annoyed at being disturbed. This was my private time. I needed to get my equilibrium back after being stressed in traffic. And I needed to think about what I had felt in church yesterday. The river wasn’t helping. The water was dirty and filled with junk, huge pieces of junk.

Sidewinder continued to talk, as he looked out towards the river. “I admire you. You come here every day, even though your mother has stopped coming. That says something about you.”

I looked down, avoiding his eyes. But I didn’t have to bother because he wasn’t looking my way anyway.

“You see, I know when people are made of strong stuff,” he said. “When I was struck with this disease I decided that I wouldn’t be a victim of circumstance. That’s why I’m out here every day. The doctor said I would be paralyzed within a year after my diagnosis. That was three years ago.”

I don’t know why, but people out here had a desire to tell me their life stories. “What happened?” I asked.

“Well I acted like you’re expected to at first. I was in a daze. I refused to believe it. I sat around home and ate anything I wanted. I figured I was going to be dead soon anyway, so what was the use in taking care of my body?

“I had been a track star in high school and college. I was training for the Olympics when I was struck down. I was running one day on the track and my legs gave out. I didn’t have control of my body, my arms flailed wildly, and I couldn’t control any of my movements. I thought I’d had a stroke.

“I was taken off the track on a stretcher. I prayed that I wouldn’t die before I said good-bye to my parents and girlfriend and my buddies. That was the most frightening feeling I ever had. Not knowing what was happening. I was fit. In top shape. I ate the right foods. This wasn’t supposed to be happening to me. I was only twenty-three years old.”

I immediately was sorry about my thoughts earlier. Here stood somebody with real problems, life-threatening problems. And I was whining about traffic and my life.

“But it wasn’t a stroke?” I asked, hoping he could hear tenderness in my voice and not pity.

“Nope! It wasn’t a stroke. It was something much worse. I had a debilitating disease that slowly takes your muscle strength and leaves you helpless. As the disease progresses, you’re like a prisoner in your body. It affects everybody differently. In some people it’s barely noticeable, but in others it totally ravages the body. And I had the aggressive type.

“I asked God what had I done to deserve this. I had to move back home with my parents. My mother made me go for rehabilitation. I didn’t see why I should since I was going to be paralyzed soon. Now I’m glad she did. I regained the use of my legs and then my arm strength came back later. But you probably haven’t noticed that I can’t hold my head up straight.”

I smiled. So did he. “What’s your name?” I asked. Somehow, I didn’t think Sidewinder was appropriate anymore.

He turned to face me. “David. David Gandy.”

“Gandy Fine Furniture,” I murmured.

“My parents’ store. And mine, I guess. I work there now. No more Olympic training for me.”

I was still interested in how he started back running. “But you can run.”

He laughed softly. “You know, a funny thing happens when you get a little clarity. When I got the use of my legs and arms back, the doctor said it would only be for a little while before I would be totally helpless. But I told myself that I was going to get better and not be paralyzed. The doctor wasn’t offering any solutions so I decided that I would take matters into my own hands.

“The only thing I knew how to do was run, and that’s what I did, although my mother wanted me to just walk along the trail. But I couldn’t. I had to run. And through God’s grace I’ve been running ever since.”

“Wow!” I didn’t know what else to say. “Where’s your girlfriend? Does she come here with you?”

“A casualty of my illness,” he said. “She left me. She couldn’t deal with me since I was no longer perfect.” Sadness briefly flickered in his eyes. He quickly dispensed of it.

“I’ll see you later, Lauren,” he said.

How did he know my name? He saw my surprise and smiled.

“I saw your name in the paper,” he said right before he took off jogging.

I watched him until he was out of sight. He had given me lots to think about. Maybe I didn’t have to be a victim of circumstance either. I could take matters into my own hands too. I didn’t have to move to Atlanta with my parents to start over. I hadn’t done anything to start over from.

Dad needed to start over. And someone had offered him a job, even with the scandal. He was moving on. Mom was ready to move on, too, by moving to another city where no one knew her. I’m glad she’s getting the opportunity to begin anew. Not many people had the luxury of picking up and starting over in another town or city.

I had to find a way to put the past few months behind me. But for some reason I couldn’t quite move on. Whenever the TV was on, I braced myself for some item of bad news that would rush in and affect my life. So I stopped watching TV. I viewed DVDs on my computer if I wanted to watch a movie.

I realized I had to move on once I made sure Mom was settled in her new life in Atlanta. And I had to figure out this faith thing.

And Jay? He was a casualty of the situation.

I glanced at my watch. It was time to go to school. If I didn’t hurry, I’d be late.

I went straight home after school. I was anxious to hear about the Atlanta trip. I also wanted to share my weekend with Mom.

Dad and Mom were at the kitchen table, house plans spread out between them. Joy filled Mom’s face. Apparently, the trip had gone well.

“We found a lovely house in Fayetteville,” Mom said. “You’ll love it. You’ll have your own suite of rooms upstairs, plus room in the basement for entertaining your friends.”

Mom seemed to have forgotten that I had no friends in Atlanta. But I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want her joy to go away. I finally had my mom back. She was happier than a morning glory.

As I listened to her go on and on about the new house in Fayetteville, I realized that this whole ordeal had been tougher on her than it had been on me. Whereas she was looking for a new start and wanted to forget everything pertaining to living here, I, on the other hand, wanted to finish what I had started here. I needed to finish high school in Missouri. I needed to finish what we had set out to do ever since we moved here when I was in middle school. However, it needed to be done with some adjustments.

This wasn’t a good day to bring all that up. I settled into a chair at the table and listened as Mom and Dad told me about the new job at a major law firm in downtown Atlanta, the town of Fayetteville located south of the city, and the new home that was under construction there.

It was a lot to take in. I followed along as best I could. I was glad for them.

Dad wasn’t a crook. He had worked hard all his life for the good of our family. He had a good reputation. He might be called to court in the future to testify, but that was in the future. Now somebody was giving him another chance. A chance he deserved.

28

The Missouri River was dirtier than yesterday.

Logs and other debris cluttered the water as it rushed downriver past me. Looking at the water made me anything but calm. A bush in the water entranced me. The river had risen to almost cover the bush, which had previously been growing on the side of the bluff that overlooked the river. The bush lay over, seemingly helpless, as more and more water covered it. Soon it was underwater. This made me sad. This huge mighty river had claimed a defenseless bush that was no match for it.

But wait! The top of the bush appeared again. A small bit at first, then more of it. The churning water covered it once again. Yet the bush came back up. They were struggling, it seemed. Who would win? The mighty river or the bush? Fascinated, I watched them go back and forth. River covered bush. Bush went under, then rose. The battle between the bush and the river could go on forever.

Much as I would’ve liked to have stayed to see who’d win, I had to leave because I had an interview with a student about my recession story. As I turned to leave, I saw Mr. Dawkins a little ways down from me standing on the edge of the river. He had a look of despair on his face, his body swayed back and forth.