Pages of Promise, page 17
“Bad news, honey.”
“What’s wrong? Is it Mom?”
“It’s Stephen.”
“Is he sick?”
“No, Daughter, he’s not sick or hurt. He’s been indicted for fraud.”
Mona sat straight up in bed and cried, “Oh, no! It can’t be true!”
“I think it’s pretty straight, Mona. I just wanted you to know before you heard it from somebody else.”
“I’ll come right away, Daddy. Is Mom okay?”
“We’re holdin’ up. Do what you need to do, Mona.”
Mona held the phone tight and whispered, “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”
He answered, “I love you, Daughter.” The phone clicked and Mona put it back on its cradle, then she leaped out of bed trying to think what she had to do.
Pete and Leslie met her at the airport.
“Hello, Daughter,” Pete said and put his arms around her and took her kiss on his cheek.
She hugged and kissed her mother, whose face was stiff with strain.
“Have you talked to him, Dad?”
“Yes.”
Her father’s reply was bleak, and that single word told Mona a great deal. “What does he say? How in the world could it have happened?”
“He says it’s not his fault. He was in a deal with some other men, and he claims they maneuvered him into this.”
“Dad, he couldn’t have done it, could he?”
Peter took her arm and Leslie’s and said, “Come on, let’s get out of here.” He did not speak until they had gotten Mona’s luggage and were in the car, and then he began to tell her the details, as he understood the case against Stephen. There was little hope in his voice, and Mona felt fear touch her spine. “Dad, he couldn’t go to jail, could he?”
“Yes, he could. As a matter of fact, from what the lawyer says, there’s not much hope of anything less.”
“It’s hit us pretty hard, Mona,” her mother said quietly. “It looks like we’ll lose the business, but we’re hoping we can keep the house.”
Mona felt horrified. She hadn’t considered that her parents might be at risk. She suddenly saw how old they were. They had worked hard all their lives building their business and providing for themselves and their children. And to lose it now—and because their son was in some crooked deal. She felt some of their grief and shock.
Mona went to see Stephen that afternoon, but the interview was terrible. He’d been drinking and kept casting blame on the other men involved. Mona tried to find out the details but with little success. She ended up nearly screaming at him for what he was doing to their parents. Before she left, he said, “Don’t worry. I got a good lawyer. I’ll beat it.”
“It might not work that way, Stephen,” Mona said icily.
“Sure it will, Sis.” Stephen’s confidence was a veneer. When Mona saw that he was afraid, she put her arms around him and held him tightly. She could not keep the tears back, and she whispered, “I’ll be praying for you, Stephen.”
Mona and her parents endured the long trial, which was so complicated that they understood very little of the details. Apparently Stephen had falsified financial statements to the Securities and Exchange Commission, failing to accurately report his own transactions—and profits—as required by law. He’d improperly used “inside” information. SEC investigators had uncovered these violations when they pursued a complaint by one of Stephen’s former business associates.
By the first day of the trial, Stephen had recovered his self-assured manner. He entered wearing one of his expensive suits, smiling and looking rather cocky—even Mona thought so. But by the end of that day, he appeared pale and shaken. The government investigators presented document after document—boring in their details but clearly showing his deliberate duplicity. After three days of testimony by investigators and by two of his business associates, the jury deliberated over a weekend and brought in a guilty verdict. Sentencing was the same day—confiscation of all the assets held by his companies, in payment of the fines, and ten years in a federal penitentiary.
Mona felt turned to stone. She saw that Stephen’s face was twisted with rage. Her parents went to him, and he received their consolation coldly, not moving, not putting his arms around them, enduring their embraces. Mona’s heart was breaking. Her father was weeping, and her mother looked as if she might faint.
Mona went, just before Stephen was led away, and put her arms around him. He was stiff and unyielding. “Don’t worry about me, Sis,” he said. “I’ll get out, and they won’t catch me again. I’ll be smarter next time.”
“Oh, Stephen,” Mona whispered, but then the guard was there, and her brother disappeared, his back erect and anger written in every line of his body.
Part 3
CHANGING TIMES
13
YE MUST BE BORN AGAIN
Reverend Harlan Crabtree came asking for Richard, and when the young man came out, the two shook hands. The minister said without preamble, “Richard, I want you to preach Sunday morning.”
Dusk had begun to fall, and the swallows were making their swooping, wheeling turns in the gathering darkness. For a moment Richard thought he had misunderstood the man. “Preach? You mean this coming Sunday?”
Crabtree stood on the porch smiling. He’d left the motor running on his ancient Oldsmobile coupe. He said reassuringly, “I think it’s time, Richard.”
“But I don’t even know how to put a sermon together! I haven’t been to Bible school.”
“I don’t suppose Elijah went to Bible school,” Crabtree said dryly. “I think this is important for you, Richard—and don’t worry about the sermon. Nobody expects a Billy Graham message for a first-time sermon from a young man. One thing you’ll want to do is give your testimony, how God has dealt with you throughout your life. Then anything else you’d care to add—why, we’ll just look on it as a bonus.”
Richard moved his feet uneasily and twisted his shoulders. “I–I’m not sure that it’s time.”
“I think it is. I been praying about it some time, and the impression came very strong this morning in my quiet time.” He put his hand on the young man’s shoulder, squeezed it, and said, “All right. Can I count on you?”
“Well, if you think so, Brother Crabtree. I’ll do it, but don’t expect too much.”
When Tom stopped by the Stuart farm, he found Logan and Mona engaged in a game of checkers. After they invited him in and offered him a glass of tea, which he accepted, he sat down and watched them for a while. It amused him to see that Logan took checkers seriously.
“I got a reputation to maintain,” Logan growled and slammed a checker down in a triple jump.
“You’re too good for me,” Mona commented. “I give up.” She had returned to Arkansas to recuperate from the emotional aftermath of Stephen’s trial and to see Tom. The home place was an infirmary at present, for Anne had recently succumbed to pneumonia, and Logan was grieving her death.
Logan stood to his feet, stretched his back, nodded. “You entertain Tom. I gotta go out and feed the cows.”
After the old man left, Tom said, “I came to invite you to church Sunday.”
Mona was surprised, and she hesitated. “I don’t go to church much.”
“I think you’ll like it this Sunday. The minister will be a relative of yours.”
Looking up with surprise, she asked, “Uncle Owen’s coming?”
“No, another relative. Richard’s going to preach. He told me this morning.”
Mona smiled and laced her fingers together, then stretched. “I would like to hear that.”
“Service starts at eleven. I’ll pick you up at ten thirty.” He rose, then hesitated. “Feel like going for a walk?”
They took the path towards Logan’s pond. “Any decisions yet?” he asked.
“Oh, I don’t know, Tom,” Mona shrugged. She was wearing a pair of worn jodhpurs and a white silk blouse, with a navy blue silk scarf tied around her neck. She ran her hand through her hair. “Life’s passing me by. I’m getting to be an old woman. Pretty soon I won’t be able to play anything but character roles.”
They stopped at a wood fence and leaned on it as they talked. “You’re not old,” he said. He reached over and touched her cheek. She looked up at him, blinking with surprise. “You’ve got the complexion of an eighteen-year-old.”
He drew his hand back as if a thought had come to him, and she demanded instantly, “What is it, Tom?”
“Nothing.”
Mona studied his face carefully. “I don’t know what it is with you,” she murmured. “At times you just go into a room and slam a door and hang a sign out, No trespassing! Keep out!”
Surprised, Henderson lifted his eyes. “I didn’t mean to show that to you.”
“Sometimes it helps to talk about things.”
An ivory-billed woodpecker lit on a tall pine forty feet away and began drilling a hole, looking for the grubs within. Henderson watched it for a while, seeming not to have heard her. Then he turned to her abruptly. “I guess I do hide from people. I told you once I was battered by life, and part of it was my wife.”
“You have a–a wife?” Mona found this hard to say. She had thought it strange that a man as attractive as Tom would not be married, but since he had never spoken of a family, she had assumed he was not.
He looked at her, and his lips grew tight. “I did have,” he said, his voice brittle as glass. “I had a good friend, too.” He said no more, but something in the stillness of his face and the stiffness of his back spoke to Mona.
“You mean they betrayed you?”
“Yes. They ran off together.”
“Did they marry?”
“No. They meant to—but they were both killed in an automobile accident two months after they left.”
Silence filled the summer air. A flock of red-winged blackbirds argued noisily as they fluttered down into a field. Mona did not speak for some time, but then she moved closer and leaned against his arm. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know it hurts.”
“It was some time ago,” he said stiffly.
“But the echoes are still inside you.”
Henderson turned to face her. Her lips were slightly parted, and there was compassion in her fine eyes. “You’re an understanding woman, Mona,” he said. He leaned forward and gave her what he intended to be a simple kiss, but the softness of her lips under his drew him. He reached out and drew her to him. He savored the wild taste of her lips for a moment, then he drew back. “I guess,” he said quietly, “that was my confession.”
Again Mona said, “I’m sorry, Tom.”
“We’d better get back,” he said—and it was to Mona as if the door had slammed shut. “I have to get home. Dinner will be ready.”
On Sunday, they walked in to a full church. “Carmen’s got a seat for us,” Tom whispered. They moved down the aisle, and Mona was conscious of the stares she got from people. To them she was a strange, exotic species from Los Angeles, a movie actress. She saw suspicion in some of the faces, but she merely smiled and took her seat beside Tom. He sat next to Carmen, who was wearing a bright multicolored dress made out of a thin gauze material that clung to her shapely body. It was too showy for church, but Tom knew she’d spent a lot of time picking it out.
“A new dress. It looks nice,” he said. “And the kids got new clothes, too.”
“I guess we’re celebrating.” She turned and smiled at him. She had full lips and very white teeth, and her liquid brown eyes were large and lustrous. Her eyes slipped over to Mona, who greeted her. “Hello, Carmen.”
Carmen merely nodded, and then the service started.
Richard was sitting in one of the two chairs on the platform. His eyes went over the congregation, and he braced his feet against the floor, sweat popping out on his forehead. He knew many of those packed into the little church, but still this was new territory for him. He thought, I didn’t get this scared in Korea when the shooting started!
After the preliminaries, Brother Crabtree rose to say, “I know we’re all praying for our young brother Richard Stuart. He’s given his life over to God, and I’ve asked him to come this morning and share his testimony and tell us anything that’s on his heart. Brother Stuart?”
Richard got up and moved stiffly to the pulpit. He fumbled with his Bible for a time until he found his text. He breathed a quick prayer, and he got a wink of encouragement and a nod from Logan. This settled him somewhat, and he began by saying, “I hope you didn’t come to hear a polished sermon because you won’t get it.”
A fly appeared, buzzing around his head, and he brushed it away, then steadied himself and said, “I want to tell you what my life has been, for a few moments anyway. . . .” He briefly told the story of his youth and referred to his service in Korea, of which he said, “Every day men died over there, and I often think of them going out to meet God. I wish,” he said slowly, “that I had been more faithful in my witness for Jesus, because, as the Scripture says, we are watchmen and are sent to warn those who do not know the Lord.
“God has called me to preach, and he’s got a big job to do to use me, but I know God can use some mighty crooked sticks.” Laughter went around and, encouraged, he said, “Now, that’s the testimony. The sermon is one you’ve heard probably a hundred times, those of you who know the Lord and have served in this church for many years. Every evangelist that comes preaches it. The pastor preaches this message constantly. I take my text this morning from the third chapter of John. What verse do you think I will center on?”
Laurel was startled when four-year-old Johnny piped up, “I know, Richard—John 3:16.”
Laughter went around again, and Richard laughed with them. “That’s right, Johnny—John 3:16. I believe you could all say it with me. ‘For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’”
The sermon was very brief, lasting no longer than ten minutes, but as Richard spoke, something happened to Laurel. She had come eager to hear Richard preach, but she did not expect what happened. As he spoke of the love of Jesus, for the first time in her life, it came alive in her heart—the knowledge that Jesus Christ was not just someone in a book—he was different. Richard quoted another Scripture. “Ye must be born again.” He had talked to her about this before, but it had puzzled her. Even now she did not understand it, but as he preached she lowered her head, unable to meet his eyes. Her heart began to constrict, and a terrible guilt came upon her. She was frightened and wanted to get up and leave but knew that she could not.
Richard said, “I want us all to stand, and we’re going to sing a song that you know without your books. ‘Just As I Am.’ You know how it goes—
“Just as I am, without one plea,
But that Thy blood was shed for me,
And that Thou bidd’st me come to Thee,
O Lamb of God, I come! I come!
“As Billy Graham says, I’m going to ask you to get up out of your seats if you do not know Jesus. All Jesus requires is that you confess that you are a sinner. That’s all, and look to him. Ask him to save you in the name of Jesus.”
The choir began to sing and the congregation joined in. Mona felt very moved. She was shocked to see Laurel go forward, tears streaming down her face. Reverend Crabtree met her, and he sat down with her on the front seat. He was reading from his Bible to her, and Richard continued the invitation through six choruses. Others went to the front, and Mona thought, There’s something to all this! A longing rose in her, and she was aware that Tom, next to her, had his head bowed and his lips were moving. The impulse came to ask him to help, but she fought it down, and when the service was over and they left together in his truck, she said, “That was sweet, wasn’t it? Laurel going forward to pray.”
Tom responded, “It does something to me to see someone come to the Lord. Does it affect you that way?”
Mona could not answer. She could not meet his gaze as he turned to look at her. Quickly she looked out the window and shook her head, pressing her lips together.
“What’s wrong, Mona?”
“I don’t know, Tom. I feel so–so strange.”
He said quietly, “I think the Lord is working on you.”
“You sound like my father and mother.”
“They’re very wise people. You come from a great family.”
“I guess I’m just the black sheep.”
“We’re all black sheep, as far as God’s concerned.”
He said no more, and she turned to him and said, “Tom, I don’t know what to do. I’ve got my career to think of. I’ve worked hard to get to where I am. I can’t just give it up!”
She expected him to argue, but he was quiet for a long time. Then he said, “Mona, how many really happy people do you know in the motion picture business?”
“Why, there’s Aunt Lylah and Adam—” But then Mona ran out of names. Most of the people in her profession were unhappy, struggling to get to the top in a dog-eat-dog world, caught up in a lifestyle that no one could really admire. She did not answer further, and when he let her out, she said, “Thanks for taking me to church, Tom.”
“We’ll do it again. That’s a fine young preacher you’ve got in your family.” He drove away, and she watched the truck until it disappeared down the road. When she went in the house it seemed too quiet, and as she took off her dress and put on her faded jodhpurs and a T-shirt, she was thinking of the expression on Laurel’s face after the service. There had been a triumph there, and Mona Stuart, the movie star, envied her!
14
“WILL YOU FORGIVE ME?”
Laurel stooped over and picked up what looked to be a weed. “Oh, this is wonderful,” she said. “I’ve looked everywhere for this!”
“What is it?”
“It’s pepperwort,” she replied, then stooped over to pick the plants, roots and all.
