Cole Fire, page 20
The eight members of the choir filed down from the platform and took their seats with their friends and family, nearly filling the forty seats in the tiny church. Henry Kallappa, the lay pastor of the thirty-five-member church, came to the platform.
“Thank you, choir,” the man in the black suit and white shirt offered. “He is risen!” Kallappa called out to the congregation.
“He is risen, indeed!” they responded. Jesse didn’t look up.
The tie Kallappa wore seemed to choke him. He reached up and loosened his tie and unbuttoned his top button. “You all saw me dressed up. No need to pretend I like it.”
His comment was met with laughter. “We are here to celebrate the most important event in human history. The day that death was conquered and the sins of the world were forgiven. You all know me. I was a sinner, a bad man, a bad husband, a bad father, a bad son, and a disgrace to my tribe. Some of you I haven’t seen here since Christmas.” The congregation snickered and lots of ribs were elbowed. “In a town of eight hundred everybody knows everybody’s business. So don’t think we don’t know. What I was, fits a lot of you just as good. That can change. I changed. God changed me and He can change you. I’m not going to stand up here for my usual sermon time.
“No need to pretend everything’s OK. It’s not. Dope and liquor are killing our people and it is killing some of you. Some of you are tweaking as you sit here. As a matter of fact, you can hardly sit here. Doesn’t mean we don’t love you, it means the devil has a hold of you and only God can free your mind and body. We can help. Everybody stand to your feet who are ready and willing to help those in need!”
All but five of the congregants stood.
“OK, you can sit down. God bless you. Now it is your turn. Jesus died so you can live. Don’t give me that ‘White Man Jesus’ foolishness, either. Jesus wasn’t white. Don’t give me no, ‘I’ll get clean soon.’ Soon you will be dead or in jail. You will lose your family, your friends, I mean real friends, and your mind. You need to get right with God today.
“We all got a fine dinner at home. But like the Bible says, ‘Man cannot live on groceries alone.’ Well, it says bread, but you know what I mean. There are other needs here today. I don’t know what you need but you do. You know. Let me pray with you.”
Henry Kallappa stood looking into the faces of the people before him. The silence seemed to take on a sound of its own. After a few moments, without instruction or direction from Henry, all over the small room people began to softly pray aloud.
A rail-thin man and his wife stood. The ravages of methamphetamines were apparent. They slowly walked to the front, hand in hand. A moment later, Jesse Monday stood and started for the back door.
“I wouldn’t do that, son.”
Jesse turned and looked into the eyes of Henry Kallappa. “You know what you need to do.”
Without taking his eyes from Henry’s gaze, Jesse made his way to the front of the tiny church.
Many tears later, Jesse Monday stood from where he knelt, born again. Not just in a spiritual sense.
When Henry Kallappa asked what his name was, Jesse replied, “Luke Sage.”
“You afraid of hard work?”
“No, sir. I could use some.”
“You know anything about construction, Luke?”
“From the cradle. My father was a contractor.”
“Meet me here in the morning at seven. We got a job starting. I’ll give you a shot. Where are you staying?”
The new Luke Sage didn’t answer.
“I thought so. All right, you can stay at my place for tonight. This new walk you’ve begun today, it won’t be easy, but God is faithful.” Henry patted his new friend on the back. “I got a good feeling about you, son. Real good.”
Luke Sage had found a friend, a home, and his God again.
* * *
The backyard was a Peter Rabbit wonderland of pastel streamers, giant Easter eggs, and brightly colored, mirror-finish pinwheels. The table was set with Erin’s floral china and pastel linen napkins. A large glass pitcher of orange juice sat at one end of the table and two bottles of sparkling Cran-Apple cider sat in an ice bucket at the other. The centerpiece was a bouquet of Peruvian lilies that exploded in reds, yellows, violets and every shade in between.
In front of each place setting, Jenny carefully positioned a handmade place card with her personalized decoration and each person’s name. A stethoscope circled Ben’s name, Erin’s name was nearly buried in flowers, Kelly’s had “grandma” printed over a pair of red lips, Cole was pictured in stick figure flying a kite, and Jenny portrayed herself with the ears and whiskers of a bunny.
On each plate sat a fancy decorated egg. Some small, like Jenny’s, and some large and decorated in rhinestones and ribbon. As Erin called everyone to the table, and with Ben and Kelly’s help, she placed several dishes of food on the table.
“Did everybody find their place card?” Erin asked, as she dramatically stretched and looked around the table.
“I found mine!” Ben said, smiling at Jenny.
Cole walked all the way around the table, then said to Jenny, “I can’t find mine.”
“Oh, grandpa! It’s right here! Grandma, you sit here across from him!” Jenny giggled with delight.
“Are my lips really that red?” Kelly inquired.
“Yes!” everyone said in unison.
Everyone joined hands, and Ben asked the blessing.
“Before we eat, I have a special Easter surprise for everyone. We’ll go from the youngest to the oldest. Just like at Christmas. Jenny, you’re first!” Erin glanced around the table, then said, “Dad, no cheating!”
Jenny twisted, pulled and popped open her egg. Out fell a plateful of peanut M&Ms. “My favorite!” she squealed.
“They are for after lunch,” Erin said firmly. “Let’s see how many you can get back in the egg.”
“OK. Just one?” Jenny pleaded.
“Just one,” Ben answered. “Your turn.” Ben smiled at Erin.
“Very funny. Mine’s empty. I just set it there to complete the table.”
“Really?”
Erin popped open the egg and exposed a rolled-up piece of paper. “What have we here?” Her face beamed as she unrolled the paper and read, “A get-away visit to Casa Esimo Day Spa! Oh, thank you, sweetie.” She leaned over and kissed Ben on the cheek. “Your turn.”
The sound of the egg breaking brought a grimace to Ben as he pulled the lid off his egg. Inside was a brand new watch.
“I thought it was about time to retire your old one.” Erin offered.
“I love it. Thank you.”
“Grandpa, your turn!” Jenny seemed to bounce with excitement.
“Thanks a lot!” Kelly said in mock offense. “Go ahead, age before beauty!”
Cole picked up the egg and gave it a quick twist. The lid popped off and he reached into the egg and pulled out a tiny pair of blue baby booties.
No one at the table made a sound. Then Jenny squealed, “I’m going to have a little brother!”
Spinning in her chair, Kelly threw her arms around Erin. “Congratulations, how exciting!”
“This is an Easter blessing,” Cole said, giving Ben a big smile.
The excited chatter of due dates, the baby’s room, and names went on for several minutes. In the ensuing excitement, Ben scooped up a big spoonful of fruit salad. Cole poured a glass of orange juice and nibbled on a piece of bagel. Jenny wiggled in her chair and was growing increasingly impatient with her mother and grandmother’s chatter.
“Mommy, I’m hungry. Mom-mom...” Jenny whined.
“You’re right, sweetie. We can talk about your baby brother for the next six months before we meet him.” Kelly’s voice was soft and loving.
“Grandma, you still have your egg!”
“Well, so I have!” Kelly said brightly.
To make sure that her appreciation was truly expressed, it was Kelly’s ritual of beginning the unwrapping or opening of every gift with oohs and aahs over the paper, ribbon, or in this case, the beautiful reproduction Fabergé egg.
“This is so precious. Do I get to keep it?”
“If you want, or we can fill it again next year.”
Erin looked at Cole and smiled lovingly.
Kelly opened the egg and gazed down with a quizzical look. She looked up at Cole, her eyes flooding with tears. Turning slowly, her eyes met Ben’s, then Erin’s.
“Kelly, since I met you my life has changed in so many ways,” Cole began. “You are a woman who is so secure and sure of who she is that it inspires everyone lucky enough to meet you. I can’t imagine my life without you. You are the perfect mother, grandmother, and my reason to be the best me I can be. Your faith and dedication to God make me see purpose in life I never dreamed was possible.”
Kelly sat with her hand over her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Easter is a time of rejoicing. Spring is a time of rebirth. A new life is coming to our family. It is also a time when you have lost everything. I want to give you my everything. Will you marry me and make this circle complete?”
“You are my everything,” Kelly said tearfully.
“Is that a yes?” Cole grinned.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Kelly took a glimmering diamond ring from the egg and handed it to Cole. “Will you do the honors?”
Cole stood, then knelt beside Kelly. He slipped the ring on her finger and kissed her hand gently.
The next moment they both stood. They kissed and held each other in a long embrace.
“I love you all so very much,” Kelly turned to face her son and his family. “And Cole makes my life complete.” She held her hand out, showing off her ring. “This is a pretty nice surprise, huh?”
Erin and Ben clapped enthusiastically.
“What do you think, sweetheart?” Cole eagerly asked Jenny.
“I’m still hungry,” Jenny said softly.
“Well, there you are.” Cole shrugged and gave a sheepish grin. “Let’s eat.”
COLE SAGE WILL RETURN IN COLE STEEL
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Micheal Maxwell was taught the beauty and majesty of the English language by Bob Dylan, Robertson Davies, Charles Dickens and Leonard Cohen.
Mr. Maxwell has traveled the globe, dined with politicians, rock stars and beggars. He has rubbed shoulders with priests and murderers, surgeons and drug dealers, each one giving him a part of themselves that will live again in the pages of his books.
The Cole Sage series brings to life a new kind of hero. Short on vices, long on compassion and dedication to a strong sense of making things right. As a journalist he writes with conviction and purpose. As a friend he is not afraid to bend the law a bit to help and protect those he loves.
Micheal Maxwell writes from a life of love, music, film, and literature. He lives in California with his lovely wife and traveling partner, Janet.
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ALSO BY MICHEAL MAXWELL
Diamonds and Cole (Cole Sage Mystery #1)
Cellar Full of Cole (Cole Sage Mystery #2)
Helix of Cole (Cole Sage Mystery #3)
Cole Dust (Cole Sage Mystery #4)
Cole Shoot (Cole Sage Mystery #5)
Three Nails: A Novella
Death of Choice: Eight Tales of Murder, Mayhem and Mystery (An Anthology)
Micheal Maxwell, Cole Fire
