Like Tommy said, Principal Quinn was just doing his job.
And suddenly the scene from the musical came back to Luke, the one that had seemed so profound. The Whos had been in dire need, their town on the dust speck about to be boiled in oil. But in the end, little JoJo had made a single sound. And that one sound had saved the Whos.
Their whole world was saved by the smallest of all.
Dr. Seuss’s message was clear. Every voice counted. Every life mattered. And in this case, no years of legal training and courtroom experience could match the simple understanding of a kid.
Someone like Tommy.
Luke wasn’t sure if he had his answer. He had no idea if this was a trail he could follow to victory for Wendell Quinn. But he had something he didn’t have this morning.
He had the hope of a child.
• • •
THAT NIGHT JUST after midnight, Cami agreed to meet Jordy at the park between his house and the Smiths’, the place where she was still living. The trial was set to begin Monday morning.
The meeting was Jordy’s idea. They needed a plan, he had told her. Some way that the kids in the Raise the Bar club could help his dad win the case against him. None of them could imagine what might happen if they were shut down. Cami loved the club. It had become her refuge. If Principal Quinn lost, the club would break up and she would lose the one thing she counted on.
It was cold and windy outside. Not quite winter, but close. Cami put on her down jacket and pulled a woolen beanie over her ears. Slipping out of the house without being noticed, she jogged the three blocks to the park. She spotted Jordy on the bench, right where he’d said he’d be. But he wasn’t alone.
As Cami came closer she saw at least another twenty Hamilton High students gathered around Jordy. It took no time to figure out that everyone was there to help.
“This is our thing.” One of the guys started the meeting. “The club is for us, so we’re the ones who should testify.”
“I agree.” Cami pulled her coat tight around her waist. She shivered, not so much because of the cold but because of the matter at hand. “If we didn’t want a Bible study we wouldn’t go. But since we’re all going, we should be the ones fighting for it.”
Jordy was quiet during the meeting. It was his dad’s career at stake. His father’s reputation was his reputation, in some ways. It made sense that Jordy would let the others do the talking. He only spoke at the very end.
“What you’re saying is true.” He looked at Cami and then the others. “My dad only did this for you. For us. Because our school was falling apart.”
“And now it’s doing so much better.” Another guy stepped up, his voice filled with passion. “Jordy, you find out which day we should be there. Then I say we skip class and show up. As many of us as they’ll allow in the courtroom.”
They agreed on the plan and the kids left for their own homes. Only Cami and Jordy remained. Jordy slid his hands into the pockets of his thick jacket. “Thanks. For being here tonight.”
Only a few feet separated them. The nearby streetlight shone a splash of yellow over the spot where they stood. “Of course.” She had done everything in her power to keep her distance from Jordy. What she felt for him still could go nowhere.
But Jordy was making it difficult.
Cami took a step closer so she could keep her voice quiet. “I still feel like this is my fault.”
“It was never your fault.” Their breath hung in the air between them. “When this is all over, I still want to go to Liberty with you next year.”
“But my life’s such a mess.”
“It isn’t.” He closed the distance between them. “You have Jesus and you have me. You have everyone at the club.” He put his warm hand against her cheek.
The feeling was wonderful. Could it be that maybe Jordy actually liked her? As more than a friend? She tried to focus. “God will get me through this. Just like your dad.”
“Right.” Jordy smiled at her.
He was closer now, their faces inches apart. Cami could practically hear his heartbeat in the silence of the night. All she wanted was for him to kiss her. But this was impossible. His dad would want someone better for Jordy. Someone more like him.
Her internal protest faded. None of that mattered now. It was just the two of them here under the night sky. So close she could hear him breathing. She studied him. “Thanks, Jordy. For always believing in me.” She felt tears well up in her eyes. “You believe in everyone like that. Dwayne. The kids in the club. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”
Then, what she didn’t dare hope would happen, did. Jordy still had his hand on her face, and he brought his lips to hers. The kiss didn’t last long, but it warmed her entire body. His eyes melted into hers. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
She felt dizzy, like her feet were lifting off the ground. The nightfall did a good job of hiding the heat she could feel in her cheeks. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you to.”
He smiled and gave her a quick hug. “I have to get home.” For a long moment he searched her face. “We’re still going to be here. Like this, Cami. When all this is behind us.”
She nodded. With everything in her she wanted him to be right. He walked her to the Smiths’ house and this time he didn’t kiss her. Just hugged her and waited while she walked up to the door. Cami turned and waved goodbye as he took off running for his home. As he disappeared around the corner, she replayed the way his hand felt on her face, the heat of his lips against hers.
The kiss had only lasted a few seconds, but it would stay with her forever.
And maybe—if God answered her prayers—Jordy would, too.
• • •
WENDELL WAS WAITING for Jordy when he got home that night. He pulled his bathrobe tight around his middle and sat in the living room chair closest to the front door. He heard Jordy turn the key and open the door. Once he was inside he seemed to take a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark of the foyer.
Only then did Wendell stand up. “Where’ve you been, Son?”
Jordy jumped back. “Dad! You scared me.”
“We have a rule in this house, young man. Let someone know where you’re going. Not to mention it’s past curfew.”
“I’m sorry.” Jordy was out of breath. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Next time, do. I can sleep later.” This entire scene was completely out of character for Jordy. He had always been the best son, obedient, quick to help. Honest. Wendell had a feeling who was behind this. He worked to keep his tone even. “Were you with Cami Nelson?”
Jordy shifted his weight, and looked down at the floor for a few seconds. “Yes.” His eyes found Wendell’s again. “But not just her. A bunch of kids from club were there, too. At the park a few blocks away.”
Over the years Wendell had learned to take his time in moments of discipline. Let his kids be heard. Instruction and correction could come later. When all the facts were on the table. “A midnight meeting at the park. I see.” Wendell paused. “Wanna tell me about it?”
“It was for you.” Jordy was breathing more normally now. He locked the door behind him and motioned to the living room. “Can we sit down?”
“Sure. Of course.” Wendell had all the time in the world. “How was this meeting for me?”
They both sat down.
Jordy shrugged. “All of us want to testify on your behalf. We think it’s wrong that you’re on trial when the club is for us. We’re the ones who needed the bar to be raised.” Jordy’s tone was earnest. He was telling the truth, Wendell was sure.
He nodded. “I see. And since you have school, when exactly do the group of you plan to testify?”
“We need your help for that.” Jordy’s eyes shone with pure intentions. “Wednesday or Thursday. Friday. Whatever day you want us there, we’ll be there.”
Wendell could hardly be frustrated with the boy. He felt his heart soften. “That’s ver
y kind, Jordy. Something your mother would’ve been a part of.”
“Cami . . . she’s . . . she’s a lot like Mom that way.” Jordy blinked, but he didn’t look away. “She and I stayed and talked for a few minutes after everyone else left.”
Wendell’s heart beat a little faster. “You and Cami?”
“Yes.” Jordy swallowed, clearly more nervous than a few minutes ago. “I like her, Dad. I know it’s . . . it’s awkward because of her father. But I can’t help it. I like her a lot.”
Wendell had seen this coming, and even still he could do nothing to stop it. “I was afraid we’d need to have this talk.” His sigh filled the quiet living room. “You and Cami Nelson, Son. It could never work. Not in a million years.”
Jordy rarely got angry, but here in the dark of night, with only the outside lamps lending light to the room, the boy’s eyes flashed. “Dad . . . that’s a terrible thing to say.”
“It’s true.” Wendell didn’t want to have to say this, but Jordy had left him no choice. “Black and white, no matter how far we’ve come on race issues, things are worse than ever. Her dad’s one of those closet racists. I could tell that the minute I saw him in court.”
Jordy squinted his eyes. “What? Dad, are you serious?”
“Of course I’m serious. He glared at me as soon as our eyes met. Looked like he wanted to kill me. Like he’d never seen a black principal.”
“Dad! Listen to you.” Jordy stood and paced across the room and back. “He has something against Christians. Not black people. You have no proof of that whatsoever.”
“Well, still . . . these days things are worse. People will hate you for dating a white girl. They’ll hate Cami for dating a black guy.” Wendell wished there was an easier way to spell out the facts. “Save yourselves a lifetime of heartache and find another girl, Jordy. Let this one go.”
Jordy stopped and stared hard at Wendell. For a few seconds he worked the muscles in his jaw, as if he was so angry he couldn’t think of exactly what to say. “So who’s the racist, Dad?”
“Jordy.”
“Please. Listen to me.” Jordy seemed to force himself to lower his voice. “You’re telling me her father looked like he wanted to kill you? Like he’d never seen a black principal? Why? Because he’s a mechanic? Because he doesn’t have his doctorate like you?”
Wendell had never seen such righteous anger from his son. He leaned forward in his chair and waited for Jordy to settle down. When the boy sat again, Wendell chose his words with care. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” Wendell could feel the Holy Spirit reminding him to be humble. He was wrong here, and he needed to say so. “There’s no reason for me to assume the man’s a racist.”
“We can’t buy the lie that all white people are racist, Dad.” Jordy’s expression became more hurt than angry. “Isn’t that what you taught us kids?”
It was. Wendell felt awful. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.” This was part of what made their family special. The ability to apologize freely. And freely forgive.
“Okay.” Jordy settled back in his chair. For a minute he gripped the armrests and rocked. As if he were sorting through his feelings and trying to figure out which was the most important. “I know Cami’s dad is a mean man.” Jordy hesitated. “I know he doesn’t like God or Christians.” His eyes locked on to Wendell’s. “But I like his daughter. That’s all I know. Cami loves Jesus, Dad. She does. And what about Mom? She was half white, remember? You and Mom were the ones who taught us that skin color doesn’t matter.”
Wendell could think of a thousand times.
“You told us hurt people hurt people, and if anyone ever had a problem with us because of our skin color it wasn’t our problem. It was theirs. You said some people got made fun of for being too tall or too short. Too heavy or too skinny. Too smart or too slow.” Passion filled Jordy’s voice. “You said none of that mattered, because in God’s eyes we were all the same. We were all His children.”
“True. I said that.” Wendell was ashamed of himself for his words earlier. And grateful for his older son’s ability to put the issue in perspective.
“So Cami and I, we’re just a couple of children of God who happen to like each other.” Jordy managed the slightest smile. “I don’t know if I’ll ask her out. I’m not sure if we’ll be boyfriend and girlfriend or if we’ll get married one day. But I like her. A lot.” He paused. “I think Mom would like her, too.”
“Yes.” Wendell found his own smile as he stood and helped Jordy to his feet. “I think Mom would like her, too.” He put his hand on his son’s shoulder and searched his eyes. “I guess I just want an easier road for you, Jordy. I don’t want people taking out their hate on you. Not for any reason.”
Jordy nodded, his eyes full of confidence and maturity. “I get that. But I can’t live to please other people. Only God. Heartache and hate are a part of life. Our job is to love. Besides”—he grinned—“God created all the colors.” He laughed. “Right?”
A chuckle came from Wendell. “When did you get to be so smart?”
The air between them was warm again, the tension gone. Jordy slipped his arm around his father’s shoulders. “I had the best teacher.”
“And I have the best son.”
The conversation stayed with Wendell long after Jordy turned in, long after Wendell was under the covers, staring at the ceiling over his bed. If he could protect his kids from the sort of attack he himself was under, he would. He’d spare them every time.
But Jordy was right. Earth was full of heartache. Hurt people would always hurt people. Which was probably why Andy Nelson had filed suit against Wendell and Hamilton High in the first place. Someone had hurt him. And when the dust settled on this case, Wendell prayed he might find out more about the man. The one he had been quick to criticize.
In case there was some way Wendell might show the man love and mercy.
Instead of judgment.
18
Andy Nelson would’ve given anything to avoid waking up in the morning. The trial against Hamilton High’s Wendell Quinn was set to begin in a few days, and there was nothing Andy could do to stop it.
He had dug this hole. Now it was no surprise he couldn’t find his way out of it.
There were several options, of course. He could take a bottle of pills or load up the revolver he kept at his bedside. But any of those would mean destroying his girls’ lives. And he couldn’t do that. The lawsuit was bad enough.
If he killed himself now, the horrible news would be splashed across newspapers all over the country. The world, even. And his daughters would suffer more than they were already. And they were definitely suffering.
Cami most of all.
The house was dark, the lights out in every room including his own. His attempt at finding sleep. Because the only thing worse than waking up in the morning was staying awake all night to get there.
The blankets on his bed felt like they were strangling him. Which wouldn’t have been so bad. At least his death would be by natural causes. But since the covers were making it hard for him to breathe, Andy flung them off his legs and sat up. He needed fresh air. Something to hurry the alcohol out of his system.
Andy had no idea how many shots of whiskey he’d had tonight. Not enough to kill him. But too much to pull a full breath into his lungs. He stumbled across his bedroom floor, down the hallway and out the front door. It was just after one in the morning, his neighbors would be asleep.
Since no one was watching, Andy didn’t care that he was only wearing sweatpants and a white T-shirt. He tripped down the front steps and landed spread out on the grass. The ground smelled of wet dirt and fertilizer. He sucked in as much air as he could.
Ten minutes, fifteen. Andy had no idea how long he stayed that way, but eventually he blinked his eyes open and looked around. What was he doing out here on the front lawn? And why was he shivering? He pressed his face against the grass again. It was freezing. The yard was ice cold, that was why.
He struggled to his feet and dragged himself back in the house. His clothes were wet and covered in mud and grass stains. A wobbly walk to his bedroom and into the bathroom, where he flipped on the light and stared at himself in the mirror.
A lunatic, that’s what he was. A raving, sick-in-the-head crazy person. What sort of man would turn on his own children? He felt a rush of nausea and he barely made it to the toilet in time. Another fifteen minutes. Thirty, maybe. However long it took for the alcohol to make its way out of his body.
Once more he got to his feet and looked around. He was more sober now, more aware of his surroundings. Why couldn’t he just die? What on earth could God possibly still want with Andy Nelson? He shuffled to the sink and wiped off his face. Brushed off the grass and mud sticking to his T-shirt.
Then he made his way down the hall to Cami’s bedroom.
Andy walked to the edge of his daughter’s bed, to the collage of photos that hung on the corkboard. His head hurt and his stomach still felt queasy. But he could focus now. The streetlamp outside her window gave him just enough light to see. The pictures showed a life Cami no longer had. A life none of them had.
She was a beautiful girl. Just like her mother.
“That’s why I’m so hard on you, baby.” He reached out and touched one of the photos. “It’s enough that you look like her. But when you started reading the Bible like she did . . .” He shook his head.
Tears filled Andy’s eyes. Tears so foreign he almost didn’t recognize the feeling. No, he couldn’t stand to watch Cami go the way of her mother. Headed into some Christian lifestyle where she’d turn against Andy and everything she’d known before.
He wanted to save her from making the same mistakes her mother made. New anger washed over him. Of course he was justified in filing the lawsuit. Andy gripped the edge of the bed, unsteady on his feet again.
Something on her dresser caught his eye. A book or a journal. Whatever it was Cami had forgotten it when she left. When he terrified her that night. Andy used the wall to navigate his way to the object, and a few seconds later he had his answer. He was right. It was a journal.