Chapter 23
Adam continued to improve over the next few weeks with the exception of some severe headaches. Victoria had thought she loved Fred but now she knew what true love was. Adam's love for her grew as well until he felt his heart would burst. He had never felt this way about anyone; he felt like shouting it to the world.
Robert Jr. was true to his word. He fired the foreman at the sewing factory and hired Gertie. Gertie, as was her nature, worked with the women. She joked with them, asked about their families, and became almost like a second mother to them. Within a week, production jumped ten percent. The heating equipment was replaced and the windows were repaired. On the first of February, they broke ground for a new plant.
O'Malley continued to elude capture.
Mary went home to her mother in Pennsylvania.
Conway, brokenhearted over the whole affair, visited Adam every day to assure him constantly that his position as pastor of Market Street was secure.
With Doctor Samuels's help, Victoria was hired as a cook in the hospital kitchen. Word of Adam's recovery spread and it was often called 'miraculous'. Even the headaches disappeared by the end of the second week. However, for all the other signs of progress, his legs refused to work.
One day at the end of January, Adam was reading his Bible. He sensed someone in his room and looking up, he saw Doctor Samuels regarding him with a grim expression.
"Come on, Doc, it can't be all that bad," Adam said smiling.
Samuels was quiet. Finally he said, "Adam, your spine is not healing properly. I'm sorry; I've done all I can do."
Adam was dumbfounded. He had been so sure the feeling in his legs would return.
"I'm afraid you'll never walk again."
The doctor turned and left but not before Adam saw his eyes fill with tears. In the hallway, Samuels leaned against the wall. What was wrong with him? As a physician during the Civil War, he had faced every tragedy unflinchingly. Now he was crying like a baby, all over a preacher who couldn't walk.
"Are you all right, doctor?"
He didn't hear the nurse come out of the patient's room.
"Yes of course. Go about your business, nurse," he said roughly, hoping his embarrassment didn't show.
Even as Adam's recovery progressed, his legs still refused to move. He grew more and more depressed. Was Samuels right? Surely God wouldn't bring him to Chicago just to destroy him. He had refrained from mentioning his hospital stay in his letters to his mother. He didn't want to worry her and had figured he would write to her about it upon his release.
Now he did not want to write to her about his injuries and he wouldn't allow anyone else to do so. Many times he woke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. The scenes from the dream came rushing back to him. He was walking in the hills back in Apple Valley. After a steep climb, he fished in a cool stream. Then he was falling.
During the day, he watched the traffic outside his window. Mothers pushing baby carriages, businessmen hurrying to their tasks. Young lovers walking hand in hand.
Victoria offered to push Adam around the hospital in the wheelchair, but he refused, claiming to be exhausted. One Wednesday night, she came into his room pushing a new wheelchair.
"Come on mister, get out of that bed," she ordered firmly yet gently. "I'm not
taking 'no' for an answer."
He turned his back on her, his face a mask of rage.
"It's not fair!" he shouted, slamming his fist into his open palm. "I've served the Lord all my life and this is how He repays me." Adam reached down and slapped his unfeeling legs. "With these useless things."
Victoria took a step backward, surprised at Adam's sudden temper. Her face fell and the smile was wiped away.
"Why are you hanging around me? Why don't you go out and find a real man, one that can walk?"
Victoria felt as if Adam had struck her.
"I thought I had found a real man." she said quietly.
"Well you didn't . All you found was a cripple." Adam said furiously.
Bursting into tears, she fled from the room. Charging down the hallway, she ran into Tom Hopkins. The tray of dinnerware he was carrying went flying, the food and dishes falling to the floor.
Sobbing, Victoria stooped to pick up the broken pieces and promptly cut her thumb.
"Let me get them. That's a nasty cut."
After picking up the broken plates, Tom set the tray on a nearby table. "Wait here," he said and hurried away. He returned with a bottle of alcohol and a bandage and applied them to her wound. Then he took her arm and guided her to the lounge, and sat down opposite her.
"Now, what's wrong?" he asked, concerned.
"Oh Tom," Victoria sobbed. "Adam is giving up. He's becoming bitter against God. He's so much different than he was before."
"I know. I pray for him every day. All we can do is commit him to the Lord. God will bring him through this."
"I'm sure you're right, but I love him so much. It's hard to see him hurting." Victoria dried her eyes. "Will he ever walk again?"
"I don't know," Tom answered honestly. "Doctor Samuels says he won't, but all things are possible with the Lord."
After disposing of the tray of broken dishes in the kitchen and receiving a thorough tongue lashing for being so clumsy, Tom headed in the direction of Adam's room. Stepping around the bed, he looked down at the sulking preacher.
He stood at the foot of the bed for a full thirty seconds before Adam spoke up.
"Well, what are you staring at?"
"I just wanted to see what a sorry Christian looked like," Tom shot back.
"What do you mean?" Adam snarled, glaring at him.
"Did you know Victoria paid for that wheelchair with her own money?" he asked, indicating the mode of transportation in the corner. "She came to work early and stayed late for weeks. She walked to work through the snow to save car fare and you treat her like this."
"Listen, I. . ." Adam began, chastised.
"No, you listen," Hopkins said firmly. "God has given you a wonderful gift. You're a pastor, a shepherd. He's also given you a beautiful Christian woman who loves you with all her heart. If you can't see how blessed you are, I feel sorry for you."
Whirling, he stomped out, leaving Adam speechless.
"Who does he think he is?" Adam muttered to the empty room. For the next hour, Bible verses came to Adam's mind constantly. He tried to stop the flow, to deny the extent of God's love, but in the end, he surrendered.
Three hours later as Tom made his rounds, he found Adam sitting on the edge of his bed. He was picking up his legs, dropping them, and lifting them again. Seeing Tom, he smiled.
"I better get them working if I'm going to walk down the aisle with my bride."
"She'll sure make a lovely one too." Tom said, returning Adam's smile.
"Help me get into my new chair, would you, Tom?"
"Sure thing, Pastor," Tom said, emphasizing the last word.
"And would you bring me a pen and paper? I think it's about time I wrote to my mother."
"Right away," Tom said cheerfully. "I'm sorry I spoke so rough to you a while ago."
"I'm not," Adam said emphatically. "As Christians, we need to love each other enough to speak the truth."
"You just needed someone to push you in the right direction," Tom said as he started to change the sheets
on Adam's bed.
"Speaking of a push in the right direction," Adam said grinning, "Would you show me where the kitchen is?"
"You bet!" Tom grinned, leaving the bed unmade. He took the handles of the wheelchair and propelled Adam down the short hall.
The next day when Victoria came to work, Adam was waiting for her. She had spent a restless night but with the dawn came a new determination. She marched up to Adam, resolved to have it out with him.
"You're not the only one that has problems," she said hotly. "A young mother brought her little boy in yesterday. He died two hours later. Then there's Miss Chapman in 105, she's all alone and doesn't even have any legs. Then. . . then... then," her voice trailed off and in spite of her vow, the tears returned full force.
"You're absolutely right," Adam agreed. "I'm very fortunate. Only one thing could make my life complete."
"What...what is that?" Victoria asked, her voice trembling. She wiped tears from her eyes.
"If the woman I love would agree to marry me. Victoria, will you be my wife?"
The tears returned but they were tears of joy.
"Yes. Oh yes," she cried, hugging him tightly.
RIVER OF FIRE