The screen door banged shut behind him as Jackson entered the back door. He glanced at the clock on the stove. It was 6 o’clock but Jackson couldn’t see or smell one sign of supper cooking. Where was everybody?
“Jackson? Is that you?” Mom’s voice floated out of the front room. “We need to talk to you in here.”
It felt like a bad dream as Jackson made his way down the hall to the living room. The house was unnaturally quiet and he seemed to notice odd details as he walked. There was a dark stain on the carpet, a missing piece of baseboard, a black mark where the vacuum cleaner bumped into the corner of the living room door. He passed the leg of the couch, Kokum’s beaded moccasins, Mosom’s cowboy boots, Mom’s bare feet and Dad’s grey wool socks. He stopped suddenly at a pair of black steel-toed work boots. They were joined at the ankle by a pair of black pants with a yellow stripe on each leg. With a thumping heart, Jackson’s eyes followed the yellow stripe all the way up to a holster, gun, bulletproof vest and finally; he looked straight into the eyes of Officer Terry.
“Where have you been all afternoon?” asked Mom very quietly.
Jackson stared at the carpet again. “In Kokum’s ice fishing hut.”
“What do you know about a beaded bracelet that was stolen last night from LeRat’s house?” asked Officer Terry.
Jackson knew what he had decided to do back in the fishing shack. He had been prepared to go home and confess to everyone that he broke into Luci’s house. He was going to ask Dad and Mosom if they would go with him to explain it all to Officer Terry. He was going to offer to wash dishes or clean toilets or . . . even play Barbies with Jessie as a punishment for what he had done. He had made this plan before he even walked home and that’s why he just couldn’t believe what came out of his mouth next.
“I . . . umm . . . ah . . . Austin had that bracelet in his pocket at school this morning. He showed it to me in class. I took it outside at recess and showed it to Beyonce and Rayna. When Luci’s mom recognized it I knew she would think it was me who stole it so I ran away and hid in the fishing hut.” Jackson kept staring at the carpet.
The room was very quiet. Kokum cleared her throat and Mom shifted on the sofa. Jackson could feel everyone staring at him.
“Austin says you took the bracelet when the two of you broke into Luci’s house last night,” said Dad.
“He’s lying!” said Jackson angrily. “He’s just trying to get out of trouble. Austin’s mad because he likes Beyonce Delorme and she has a crush on me. That’s why he’s making stuff up.” Jackson crossed his arms across his chest and stared hard at everyone in the room.
“I think the two of you will have to come down to the station tomorrow afternoon to get this thing sorted out,” said Officer Terry.
Jackson dropped his arms to his sides and looked from face to face. “Don’t you believe me?” he asked. “You don’t think I would actually break into someone’s house and steal a bracelet do you? Why would I want to steal a bracelet anyway?” With that said he stomped off to his bedroom and slammed the door.
Even though it was suppertime, Jackson didn’t feel hungry anymore. His face was hot and his hands were all sweaty. He leaned his back against the cool wall of his room and slowly slid down into a squat. He put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Wow! Now he was in trouble with the police! He listened to the muffled voices in the living room as the grown-ups discussed the situation.
“OK, I’ll bring him down to the station right after school tomorrow,” Dad said quite loudly.
Jackson heard the front door shut and car tires crunch on the snowy driveway. Then all was quiet again.
“Jackson? Come here my boy. I need you to do something for me.” Kokum called from the living room.
Jackson looked up from his iPad in alarm. He really didn’t want to leave the safety of his room but refusing to do something for his grandmother was pretty much unthinkable.
“Nosisim? I need your help in here,” Kokum called again.
Reluctantly, Jackson made his way down the hall toward the living room. Kokum was sitting on the couch in the same spot she had occupied earlier that evening when Officer Terry had come to visit. She looked little and sad as she watched ‘Tribal Trails’, her favorite show that featured Aboriginal Christians who had gone through hard times but found Jesus. Kokum loved the stories and the old time music. Jackson and Austin thought the show was just for old people. They called it ‘Terrible Trials’ when Kokum wasn’t listening.
“You should watch this guy that’s on TV now,” coaxed Kokum. “He went to prison for lyin’ and stealin’ but Jesus got hold of him there and changed his life.” She looked sideways at Jackson. “So maybe there’s hope for you yet.”
“What did you want me to do for you Kokum?” asked Jackson.
Without taking her eyes off the TV, Kokum answered. “Go to my room and get my sweater Nosisim. It’s a chilly night and I don’t want to miss my show. The sweater is on my bed.”
Glad to get away from Kokum and her TV show, Jackson walked swiftly down the hall, opened the door and looked around. Kokum’s room was cool and tidy. Photos of his Mosom Jack, his mom and all her brothers and sisters were lined up on the dresser. Above the bed was a picture of a tipi that said ‘As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.’
Jackson’s heart sank. He knew he had really hurt Kokum with all his lying and stealing and breaking into houses and running in the Twilight Race and . . . he sure hadn’t been serving the Lord with Kokum, that’s for sure!
Next, Jackson looked at Kokum’s bed. It was neatly made with a beautiful quilted star-blanket. Their church had given it to Kokum at Mosom Jack’s funeral. He knew Mosom Jack would have been disappointed with him too. Jackson’s throat felt tight and he choked back tears.
“OK God. It’s me Jackson. I’ve really let everyone down. I’ve let you down too. I just seem to get into trouble every time I turn around. I lied about my best friend this time. The lie just came right out of my mouth before I could stop it. I don’t know what to do. Can you help me?”
In frustration, Jackson yanked the sweater off Kokum’s bed. He hadn’t noticed that her Bible was lying on top of it. The big black book summer salted to the edge of the bed and fell onto the carpet with a thud.
“See what I mean God?” Jackson exclaimed, his eye’s looking up to the ceiling. “Every time I turn around I do something bad. I didn’t want to dump Kokum’s Bible on the floor. I don’t want to do bad things all the time.”
“Read it,” said a quiet voice.
“What?”
“Read it,” Jackson heard the small still voice repeat.
He looked around but couldn’t see anyone else in the room.
“Read it,” the voice said for the third time.
Jackson knelt down and looked at Kokum’s Bible. The gold on the edge of the pages was almost rubbed off. The black leather cover was cracked and worn. He knew Kokum spent hours reading her Bible. He loved it when she read him stories about warriors and heroes.
The Bible had fallen open to a place that Kokum had marked with a pink pen. Jackson read the words she had underlined. “Do not be afraid. God has come to test you, so that the fear of God will be with you to keep you from sinning.”
“What does that mean?” wondered Jackson. He read some more verses to see if he could find a clue.
“You shall have no other gods before me . . .
You shall not make for yourself an image in the form of anything . . .
You shall not misuse the name of the LORD your God . . .
Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a day of rest. On it you shall not do any work . . .
Honor your father and your mother . . .
You shall not murder.
You shall not commit adultery.
You shall not steal.
You shall not give false testimony agai
nst your neighbor.”
Jackson felt paralyzed. He couldn’t believe it. He had just recently done most of the things on that list. His mind raced back over the last few months. Impressing girls and playing games on his precious iPad had sure been more important to him than worshiping God. He had also misused God’s name and disobeyed his parents. He hadn’t committed adultery or murder. But, he was mad at Austin for trying to take Beyonce from him. He could understand how a person could go that far.
Austin! Jackson’s heart lurched. He had just betrayed his best friend with a lie. That was a false testimony!
Hot tears leaked out of Jackson’s eyes and plopped onto Kokum’s open Bible. He quickly, wiped them off the part that read . . . “for I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children . . .
Jackson felt hopeless. He had failed God’s test. He deserved to be punished. He deserved to go to jail for stealing that bracelet and blaming it on Austin.
“Nosisim? Where’s my sweater? What’s takin’ you so long?”
Jackson wiped away more tears with the back of his hand. He had almost forgotten about Kokum’s sweater. He stood up and was about to put the Bible back on Kokum’s bed when the still small voice filled his head once more.
“Read it again,” said the voice.
Jackson looked down at the open Bible.
“Read it again,” the voice insisted.
Jackson read through the long list of sins he had committed and finally got down to the part Kokum had underlined in pink. “Do not be afraid,” It said. “God has come to test you, so that the fear of God will be with you to keep you from sinning.”
Do not be afraid. Jackson frowned as he thought about that. He was always afraid lately. He hated the knot in his stomach that wouldn’t go away. He hated having to wonder when he would get caught and what would happen to him when he did. He would love to stop sinning but didn’t know how. What kind of test could God send that would keep him from sinning?