Read On Every Side Page 7


  Jordan hung his head again. “I know, but this time it's differ-ent. Like she's not ever going to get better again.”

  Faith was adamant in her response.” Then we need to pray. Right away so Jesus knows what you're feeling.”

  Jordan nodded and waited for Faith to take the initiative. She reached out and held his hand in hers. “Father God, we come before You knowing that You hear us when we pray…please, Jesus, make Jordan's mom get better. He and Heidi need her so much. And please help Jordan trust You so he won't be afraid.” She said some other things too, but Jordan didn't remember them. He was torn between trying to focus on the prayer and enjoying the way her hand felt in his.

  When they were finished they looked up at each other, and Jordan realized all the other kids had made their way inside already It was just he and Faith alone on the curb, a spring breeze washing over them. Without giving it another thought, Jordan leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. A simple kiss that was neither lingering nor rushed. The kind of kiss that meant they were more than friends, but still too young for any-thing serious. Faith's cheeks grew flushed, and for once she had nothing to say.

  Jordan looked through her eyes straight to her heart that afternoon. “I'm going to marry you one day, Faith.” He grinned and poked her in the ribs to lighten the mood. “So don't go spending too much time with Scott Milton.”

  There was a new shyness in Faith's eyes as she smiled at him. “Okay. And don't forget to pray about your mom. Jesus'll help her, Jordan. I just know it.”.

  Looking back now Jordan wasn't sure if it was Faith's words that afternoon or his deepening sense that something was terribly wrong with his mother that had spurred him to start riding his bike to Jericho Park. He would sit on the very bench he occupied now and pray to Jesus about the thoughts that filled his heart. Usually his trips to the park were at night, after he and Heidi had finished their homework, after the two of them had cleaned din-ner dishes and he was sure his mother was sleeping comfortably Then he'd tuck Heidi into bed, jump on his old bicycle and head for the Jesus statue.

  Jordan had no idea how often he'd visited Jericho Park during that time of his life. The only person who knew what he was doing was Faith, but even she didn't know the range of thoughts he brought before the Lord at the foot of the statue. He prayed for his family and his grades and his baseball game. Money was scarce and he wanted a scholarship to play baseball in college so he could get a good job and make a decent living. That way they could afford the best doctors for his mother. He even prayed about Faith, knowing that somehow the two of them would be together one day But most of all he prayed for his mother.

  Faith had asked him about the statue before. “It's not like that's really Jesus. You know that, right?”

  Jordan had laughed. “Of course I know that. It's just a good place to pray It makes me remember Jesus is real, not just some imaginary person, you know?”

  Faith grinned. “I know I feel the same way I'm glad we have the statue here. It must make Jesus happy that it's right there on Main Street for everyone to see.”

  As his mother's health worsened that summer, Jordan began making the trip to Jericho Park every night. Sometimes Faith would come with him and they'd sit on the bench together, hold-ing hands as they prayed for Jordan's mother. Once in a while they'd share a brief kiss or two, but nothing more. When school started that fall, Jordan and Faith privately knew that they shared a relationship, but they also understood they were too young to make their commitment public. Whereas they'd held hands innocently in their younger, childish years, now they were careful to only do so when they were alone.

  On several occasions, Heidi had caught them that way, hands linked as they talked outside on the curb. Once in a while she'd tease them, but most of the time she understood.

  “You still love me too, right?” Heidi asked him one night before they went to sleep.

  “Of course, silly You're both my best friends.”

  By the time the leaves changed in October that year, Jordan's mother was at the doctor every other day for some kind of appointment, and she wore a scarf all the time. Chemotherapy.He understood now, but at the time he'd had no idea what that meant. Only that she looked worse all the time and with each passing day his fears grew stronger than ever. He began listening in to her conversations with Faith's mother. One afternoon he overheard her say something about telling the kids, choosing the right time. That night he found her alone in her room and knelt by her bedside.

  “What do you want to tell us, Mom?” He whispered the words so he wouldn't startle her, and she turned her head weakly in his direction.

  A smile filled her thin face. “Oh, hi, Jordan. Wasn't it a beauti-ful day?”

  Panic worked its way through Jordan's young body “Mom, I don't want to talk about the day I want to talk about you. What did you want to tell us? You said something to Faith's mother about talking to Heidi and me. About what?”

  Tears welled in his mother's eyes, and she breathed out for a long time. “I guess it's time you know.” She hesitated as though she would have done anything in the world to keep from having to tell him this news. “I have cancer, Jordan.” She swallowed and for several moments couldn't speak. “Do…do you know what that is?”

  Jordan had the feeling he'd been plunged under a twenty-foot tidal wave. He felt the same way he'd felt when Jimmy Julep hit him in the stomach with a fast pitch back in fifth grade. He clutched his sides and nodded. “Faith's grandpa died of cancer.”

  His mother smiled. “Right.” She struggled to catch her breath and wound up coughing for several seconds.” I have it in my lungs, honey. The doctors say that Jesus might be calling me home.”

  “No!” Jordan had to work to keep from shouting as anger and fear fought for position in his heart. “I've been talking to Jesus every day about you, Mom. You're going to get better!”

  She reached out and took his hand in hers. Even now Jordan remembered how weak her grip was. “I want you to take care of Heidi, okay? And one day we'll all be together again…in heaven.”

  Jordan shook his head, raw terror strangling him as he fought the truth with every breath in his body “No, Mom! God wouldn't do that. You're going to be fine.”

  “Jordan, it's time you knew the—”

  “No!” He was on his feet, angry with her for reasons he didn't even understand. “Don't talk that way, Mom.”

  Without waiting for her response, he ran outside and climbed on his bike. Five minutes later he was on his knees, weeping at the foot of the Jesus statue. “Don't take her away from us, Lord, please. I'll do anything You want. I'll quit baseball or stop spending time with Faith. I'll do more chores and get better grades in school. Please, Lord… just let her live, please!”

  Faith must have heard the same thing from her mother that night because she went looking for him. Thirty minutes later she showed up at the park and gently fell on the ground beside him. She wrapped her fingers around his and hung her head, sobbing softly alongside him. There were no words between them that night, only tears as they both raised their silent voices to God and begged Him to save Jordan's mother's life.

  A wave of nausea came over Jordan now as he remembered how bad things had gotten after that, how terrified Heidi became at the thought of losing their mother, how she'd started to stutter because of the fear that welled within her. And most of all how their mother had suffered…

  Suddenly the memories were more than Jordan could take. He took a deep breath and let go of all the images except one…him and Faith in this very park, fingers linked as they prayed for his mother.

  What do you think of your Jesus now, Faith?

  The thought filled his mind and anchored there. What could she possibly feel but disillusionment? Jesus had taken his mother, her father… and left Jordan and Faith grieving for the people they loved. He tried to picture Faith, wondering what she might look like now, what hand life had dealt her. And whether sometimes, when the leaves turned in the fall as the
y were about to do in a few weeks, she remembered kneeling beside him at Jericho Park and holding hands with a boy who was her very closest friend.

  He stared at the statue, the outstretched arms and passionate eyes, and he was filled with an overwhelming, growing sense of purpose. Coming to see the statue, praying to Jesus every night…none of it had done any good. Not for Jordan or his mother. The words on the inscription, the statue's very presence, all of it implied promises that had nothing to do with reality. If there was a God, then He'd let Jordan down in his greatest hour of need. Certainly the same had to be true for other children in Bethany, children who had grown up in the shadow of this stone memorial to deception.

  Well…no more. This was a public park, after all. A place where people had the right to laugh and run and play without being confronted with a fairy-tale Jesus who only pretended to care.

  Jordan stood and made his way back to his car. He didn't need to look over the briefs. He knew the legalities so well he could recite them in his sleep. Before he pulled away, he saw three children skip toward the statue and stop near its base. In obvious wonder they stared up at the stony face, pointing and talking amongst each other.

  He wanted to shout at them, warn them against putting their faith in a God who would take away everything that mattered in a boy's life—his closest friend, his sister, and his mother. Jordan worked the muscles in his jaw as he checked traffic, pulled onto Main Street, and headed toward the courthouse.

  It was just before two o'clock; there was no time to waste. The lawsuit had to be filed before another hour passed.

  The statue had to go.

  Seven

  A t just after two o'clock that day, Charles and Heidi Benson pulled up in front of Jericho Park and killed the engine. “There it is.” Heidi stared across the grass at the old play area and scanned the grounds until her eyes fell on the Jesus statue. “We used to play here every day.”

  Charles glanced at the clock and shrugged.” We have time. Wanna walk for a bit?”

  “Good idea.” Heidi patted her rounded abdomen. “It'll be a long drive home and the last thing I need is leg cramps.”

  They climbed out and Charles came up alongside her, ten-derly taking her hand in his as they started walking. “So… do you think you could live here again?”

  Heidi gazed out across the park. They'd taken the day off so Charles could interview at a medical clinic in the newest part of Bethany. He'd been working out of a busy office near downtown Philadelphia for two years—ever since finishing medical school. Now, with the baby on the way, they'd agreed it would be nice to get out of the city

  But Bethany…

  Heidi sighed, “I'have mixed feelings.”

  Charles was quiet as they walked, allowing Heidi to remem-ber life the way it had been when she last lived in this same small town. She'd told him how she and Jordan and their mother had shared a house not far from the park, how the days before their mother got sick were little more than a happy blur. It was what happened afterward that made it hard to come back, hard to walk in the very park where they'd played back when each day seemed more charmed than the last.

  Their mother died when Heidi was ten, and afterward some-one from the state stepped in. Heidi held the memories at bay and watched a boy about twelve years old pushing his little sister on the swings. The two laughed as only children can…

  That had been Jordan and her back then, hadn't it? Happy and sure that their time together would never end?

  “You okay?” Charles bent his head so she could hear his words, soft and filled with concern.

  “Just thinking…” She looked up, conveying with her eyes the fact that she needed this time, needed to remember again what had happened that year. At first she and Jordan had lived alone with the help of their neighbors…Mosely or Moss… Moses… something like that. But after a few weeks the state inter-vened, and she and Jordan were sent to separate foster homes.

  She could still hear her brother's voice, see him standing there before her, tears streaming down his face as the people from Social Services waited to take them away in two different cars. “We won't be apart for long, Heidi, I promise. Just until they can find us a home where we can live together…”

  There was no forgetting the way she'd clung to him that day, knowing he was all she had left in the world.

  “Don't let me go, Jordan. Please!”

  He had shaken his head, placing his finger to her lips. “Shh… it's okay. You can call me whenever you need me. We'll be together soon, you have to believe that.”

  But it hadn't turned out that way. She stayed in one foster home for a week and then was transferred to another. Even now she remembered asking about her brother but getting only vague answers in response. “It's difficult to place siblings your age,” one social worker told her. “We're doing our best.”

  Then one day she overheard her foster parents talking. Something about Jordan running away and getting locked up at a boys’ camp. Before they could finish Heidi burst into the room, screaming. “I want to see Jordan! He doesn't belong in a camp, he belongs with me.”

  She was so upset at the thought of losing her brother that she threw a tantrum, screaming at the top of her lungs, her fists flailing. The next day she was transferred to a foster home across the state. Four weeks later her foster parents, the Morands, sat her down.

  “There's been an accident at the camp where Jordan lives.” Mr. Morand took her hands in his. Heidi remembered liking the Morands from the beginning. They were kind and gentle and somehow in their presence the tragedies she'd suffered seemed bearable.

  Now though, her young heart raced with fear. “An accident?”

  Mrs. Morand nodded. “An underground cavern collapsed and many of the boys were killed, Heidi.”

  She shook her head, her eyes wide with fear. Not Jordan… not her brother… “What… what about Jordan?”

  “Honey, I'm sorry. He was one of the ones inside and he—”

  “No! He would have gotten out. He's bigger than other boys and strong. He never would have died in there!”

  The Morands held her close and let her sob away her grief long into the night as they stroked her hair and comforted her. Something Mrs. Morand said that night stuck with Heidi even to this day. “He's with your mother now…taking care of her in heaven until you can all be there together.”

  Now Heidi stared sadly at the Jesus statue. Once her family had come to believe in Christ, the statue had always been a bea-con of hope. Her foster mother's words had been true; they had to be. And they were the only reason she survived that time at all.

  A year later, the Morands adopted Heidi and raised her in a suburb north of Pittsburgh, where over time she was finally able to put the tragedies of her childhood behind her. The Morands loved her as if she were their own daughter, and in their care Heidi flourished. She was active in high school—involved in ten-nis and track. Her senior year at her church's fall kickoff she met Charles, a new boy whose family had just moved to town.

  She and Charles dated through college and married before he started med school. Now they wanted a quiet place where Charles could practice medicine and they could raise their family. A place not too far from the Morands. When Charles got word that the clinic in Bethany was looking to hire a pediatrician, the two of them scheduled a day trip and he arranged an interview “They want me,” Charles had told her when he found her in the hospital cafeteria after the interview She threw her arms around his neck and squealed. “I knew it.”

  “I can start November 1.”

  “Honey, I'm so proud of you.” It was true. Charles was every-thing she'd ever dreamed of in a man. He took care of her the way… well, the way Jordan had when she was a little girl. She could hardly wait to have their baby and set up house wherever he got a job. Even in the town that harbored all her childhood memories.

  Charles interrupted her thoughts.” Everything looks good to me, the offer, the hospital… the community” He slowed his s
teps and faced her. “I guess it's up to you. Whether you can be happy here or not.”

  Tears clouded Heidi's vision and she swallowed hard. “It makes me wish Jordan had lived. That we could have stayed close and somehow…I don't know…maybe been adopted together.” She walked a few more steps, and he fell in beside her, silent, waiting for her to continue.

  “My parents told me they would have adopted Jordan too. If he hadn't…” Even after so many years it was hard for her to pic-ture her strapping brother, buried beneath tons of earth in the camp accident. Wouldn't he have found a way out? Couldn't he have heard it coming and run for daylight before it was too late? But her thoughts went unspoken.

  “I like to think of him the way your adoptive mom does… up there in heaven taking care of your mother until you can all be together again.” Charles put his arm around her shoulders and held her close.

  A single tear made its way down Heidi's cheeks. “Me too. But I still miss him.”

  There were questions in Charles's eyes and Heidi understood. If she felt this way now, just walking near the Jesus statue, would it be impossible for her to live in Bethany? To walk the streets daily where she and Jordan once lived? To take their children to Jericho Park—a place where she and her brother once played?

  Heidi sighed. “It's in the past, Charles.” Her voice was quiet, choked by emotion. “I have you now… our life is everything I've ever wanted.” She hugged him again. “I can do this. I can live here, raise our family here.” She kissed him as two more tears fell onto her cheeks. “Call them and tell them yes.”

  Eight

  The Monday night newscast was always busier than most because with it came the weekend wrap-up, stories that covered not only that day's events but also any loose ends from Saturday and Sunday By the time Faith left the sound-stage at just before midnight, she was exhausted in more ways than one.

  She'd called the Social Services department earlier that day, and though the piece on Rosa had appeared several times during daytime broadcasts, not a single person had called about her. Is there no one for her, God?