Read Unexpected Dismounts Online
Authors: Nancy Rue
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Christian, #Religious, #Contemporary Women, #Christian Fiction, #Women Motorcyclists, #Emergent church, #Middle-Aged Women, #prophet, #Harley-Davidson, #adoption, #Social justice fiction, #Women on motorcycles, #Women Missionaries
I listened with ears to hear as each of the Sisters touched us with her faith … “I feel like my past been finally washed away …” “I ain’t jus’ clean and sober—I’m clean and saved …” “I’m free. That’s all—I’m free.”
But when Desmond came up sputtering from dunking his whole head into the water, I could hear him with my very soul.
“I didn’t believe in no God when me and my first mama was on the street,” he said. “And then I did, ’cause of Big Al, and it seem like, okay, you believe and all this good stuff happen to you. I asked Mr. Chief, though—”
Desmond turned, still standing in the water, covered in gooseflesh, and my heart sank. He was looking for Chief …
Who was, indeed, there, parked in his wheelchair. With Kade at the helm.
“… ’cause I like to run everything by him, and he give me this cross to wear so when any
bad
stuff happen, I’d remember and still believe. Only, bad stuff did happen, real bad stuff, and I didn’t never wear it ’cause it didn’t stop more bad from goin’ down. That’s when I tol’ Big Al I wasn’t havin’ no baptism.” He paused for a second. Even my Desmond had to stop for a breath now and then. “They was always talkin’ about Jesus dyin’ for us and savin’ us, and I didn’t see no Jesus dyin’ for
me
and savin’
my
—behind.” His grin for me was brief, before he swallowed and worked that troublesome Adam’s apple I loved so much. “Then today, I seen him. Not
him
—but I seen Big Al almost dyin’ to save me, even though I steal her Oreos and don’t tell her stuff, even though she already knows it, and it was like
seein
’ Jesus. And I knew I had to get me some a that.”
Just as she had done for each of the Sisters, India wrapped a towel around his shoulders and kissed one cheek, and then the other. That holy kiss that no one could give like India.
On the other side of them Kade stood behind Chief. The fading light erased the edges of the handsome man-features, softening his face into a little boy’s. A little boy not sure he should join in. The little boy I didn’t raise.
By my own choice. A choice that had made deceivers out of both of us.
Kade must have felt me watching because his eyes shifted from Desmond to me.
I’m sorry,
they said.
Me, too,
mine said.
Me, too.
“Time to party!”
Mercedes gave Desmond’s soggy Afro a smack. “We gon’ have communion, boy.”
“That’s what I jus’ said. Time to party.”
The group moved to the porch, where India was already lighting the candles of the Easter Even vigil to follow. Sherry knelt beside my chair.
“I’ll help you up there,” she said. “You need to stop banging yourself up, girl.”
I put my hand on her shoulder and pulled her toward me. “You heard how it happened,” I said.
“Some loser with a rap sheet tried to mow you and Desmond down.”
“It was Sultan, Sherry.”
Panic shot through her eyes. “Sultan’s dead.”
“We don’t know that anymore.”
“
I
know it.”
“How?” I said. “How is it that you know?”
“I told you before—just leave it alone.”
“I can’t anymore.”
I tilted my chin toward the porch, where Desmond was hanging one lanky arm around Liz Doyle’s neck and telling Stan the Man, “You can have bread, dude. Ain’t nobody here cut outta the body a Christ.”
Sherry’s face paled, until I could almost see through her to the scene she was once more burying.
“Do what you have to do, Miss Angel,” she said.
She got to her feet and went to join the others at the table. The fear had returned to her steps.
“Desmond says he’s going to stay up all night for the vigil.”
Chief eased his wheelchair over the tufts of grass and stopped beside me. I couldn’t look at him.
“He’ll be asleep the first hour, guaranteed,” I said.
“Classic.”
“Yeah.”
I imagined him tilting his head, creasing the tiny lines, looking through me the way only this man I loved could do. But I couldn’t make myself turn around and see it, and not be able to touch it.
“We’re a pair to draw to,” he said.
When I opened my eyes, he was so close his breath warmed my face. “If it comes to it, we can fight this out with our crutches.”
“
What,
Chief?” I said. “What are we even doing?”
“You know what you’re doing. You always do. I only know what I
want
to do.”
“Then why don’t you just do it?”
“Because I can’t put you in that position with God.”
Chief put two fingers on my chin and nudged my face toward the street. “Do you see that, down on the corner?”
All I saw at first was the skeleton of the school, now cast in black by the last of the sunset. As I looked, Garry Howard’s form took shape. He was still standing at the curb.
“The good reverend is looking at the position he’s in,” Chief said. “I can’t put you there.”
“Garry Howard didn’t go to God with his decision to accept money from Troy Irwin. That’s the position he’s in.” I turned back to Chief’s breath. “I’m not there, and you can’t take me there. I can’t stop heeding the Nudges and listening to the whispers and paying attention to the pain. God won’t let me.”
“So is God going to let you be with a man who didn’t get in the pond?”
“Would that be the God you told Desmond he should believe in?”
“The God I want to believe in.”
I couldn’t breathe. But I could say, “All we can do is ask him.”
“How do we do that?”
I moved closer, close enough to make it safe to close my eyes. I felt Chief’s hands in my hair and his breath on my mouth. And his kiss in my soul.
“Nudge?” Chief said into my lips.
“No,” I said. “Just joy.”
From the porch, Hank called out, “The Lord be with you.”
I put my hands on Chief’s, which were still holding my face. “And also with you,” I said.
You would think as a prophet, I’d know what God was doing with me.
For that moment at least, I did.
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⢠Discussion Questions
⢠More about the Nudge
Discussion Questions
The following are a few thoughts to spur discussion with fellow readers or simply to ponder on your own. Should your conversation lead to questions for
me,
I would love to hear from you at
[email protected]
.
Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.” (John 13:14–15)
The Nudge
The whole concept of being Nudged by God to do something you obviously didn’t think up yourself has grown into more than a premise for a series of novels. Together with other Nudgees, I’ve formed a blog community called “The Nudge” (what else?), where we share the pokes and wild dreams and impossible projects we strongly suspect are coming from God. Please join us at
www.tweenyouandme.typepad.com/the_nudge
. You can also find me on Facebook (
www.facebook.com/nnrue
) and Twitter (@nnrue).