Rescue 12 Responding, page 8
Joey yelled as he approached the trim, perfectly groomed businessman sitting behind his desk, anger dripping from each word, “What happened? What went wrong?” Anger, the strongest tormenting voice within Joey, joined a stronger warrior of Rage, a voice that was familiar to the older man. Their two voices began to harmonize and play between the two humans, their voices were felt within each of their human toys, and each felt the surge of this emotional volley.
“Shut up, Joey!” angrily, Mr. Summerall returned the hostile verbal assault. He stood up from behind his desk and walked over to face his immature challenger. He controlled his voice, and his words became restrained, "The stuff wasn’t supposed to be fatal. There was an error, and the coke wasn’t cut before it was distributed. I would not have wasted that pure cocaine. I lost a lot of money! Hell, I would have cut it myself, if I had known. Do you think I am a fool?” He reached over and pulled out a white bag from his desk, “This; this is what they were supposed to have had. Accidents happen in our business; things are under control now.”
“But that’s not what they had! They are dead!” Joey, unable to quiet his anger, yelled at his affluent supplier, “We killed them. It’s our fault, if you haven’t noticed. If they find out that it was me they bought it from, I’ll get the death penalty.” He began to tremble in the onslaught of raging emotions. For a moment, Joey was blinded to the power of this middle-aged, red-haired man, then Fear gripped his heart when he saw his cold, dark eyes. Clearly, Mr. Summerall’s expression showed no concern for the teenager’s deaths and instantly, the young man knew he had spoken too abruptly. His fear was now strong enough to silence the anger raging within him.
The bodyguards moved forward waiting for the word to quiet this fool. The voice of murder was familiar to them. Silently they waited. Mr. Summerall threatened coolly, “If you are not man enough to keep yourself together, then we can take care of you, right now.”
The young man’s eyes dropped to the floor. He knew he had said too much and that this man could have him killed easily with a single word. Fear delighted at revealing a dark truth to his victim, “Die now, or die later. It’s not for you to decide.” The young, fearful dealer awaited his outcome. Death entered the room.
Mr. Summerall, enjoying the control and fear he wielded, lowered his voice further and sounded almost fatherly, as he placed his hands on the kid’s back, “You’re doing a great job. These things happen. Don’t worry, the cops will never have enough information to pin it on you. Besides, it’s not like cocaine is FDA approved. Anyone, including those kids, who uses this shit knows they are taking a chance. It is their choice. It'll blow over. Remember, this isn’t the first time. People die all the time from drugs, and they know it. They can’t stop us.”
“But, so many at one time. It’s hot out there,” Joey whispered. He knew he would do whatever he was told. This risk of being silenced was real, and he just needed to get out of this place alive. He lifted his eyes and looked into the face of his boss. He sought hope but found only cold darkness.
Mr. Summerall taunted his captive. “Not nearly as ‘hot’ as where you’ll be, if they catch you. I’m not afraid of death, but you should be.” Death had been his companion and tool to control others for so long that he laughed at the thought of hell. He knew what death would be like for himself. The Voices within had convinced him that he was buying his place in Hell. He would forever be in control of fools like this one trembling before him. He had always won. His laughter grew.
The young frightened man didn’t know why this evil man laughed, but he grasped for some reason to hope. His fear of death made him giddy, and suddenly he joined in the laughter.
They laughed together. All of them. Voices of Deceit and Lies danced at the foolishness of these men.
The voice of Control took over and suddenly, Mr. Summerall sobered and stopped laughing, returning to the business at hand. Mistakes cost money. Money was lost, and more was at risk if any other errors were made. His voice was as piercing as a knife. “With your high school buyer being killed by the cocaine, no one else knows you are the dealer who sold it,” he paused, “Right?”
“I…” heat rose from the back of Joey’s neck, “…don't think so.” Fear taunted him again with the knowledge that he was in Death’s grip. It was like a cat and mouse game, and he knew he was the mouse, and his life depended on him finding a way to escape. His mouth dried. He could make no mistakes. “There is only one other person who knew I sold it to the others,” Joey said, carefully weighing every word. “I didn’t know about Tommy and the others dying that night. And, after I sold the coke to Tommy, I met with a junkie who tried to cheat me. No one was around, and I shot him. I thought you would be pleased.” Joey’s words quickened. He knew he was speaking on behalf of his own life. “I knew you wanted me to make my mark on the streets. I did…” he forced his words to slow down, as he watched Mr. Summerall’s eyes begin to glow red from a level of anger he didn’t know existed. Joey grasped for a straw, “I thought it was what you wanted, but …”
Mr. Summerall grabbed the young man and held him by the throat. His hands tightened, “But…”
Joey’s voice trembled. “…but, somehow, he managed to live. I don’t know how. I shot him right in the stomach. There was no way he should have lived.”
“So, a bunch of good kids die, and a junkie lives. You had a fine night. It sounds like your luck has run out,” Mr. Summerall enjoyed the feel of terror under his hands and decided he liked his pawn. He would wait till later to take this one. “So, who might this junkie have told?” He released his grip. He enjoyed the submission as much as he was enjoying the terror from this kid.
“No one now. He has already called me from the hospital. He wants me to give him some heroin. He is already feeling the pain of withdrawal and said that he knew it was his fault. He wants me to give him enough free drugs to last him for a while. That is all it will take for him to forget all about it.” Joey rubbed the sweat from his face, his hands trembling with fear, then rubbed his neck. It felt as though the supplier’s hands remained there. In some ways, they had…
“We can trust the junkie. I know their type. They will forget anything and everything just if you supply their need. It’s amazing how little someone will sell their soul for, to possess this white death. There is only one catch. Was the junkie awake in the ambulance? Could he have talked? Fear of dying can make you say foolish things, things you would regret later.” He sneered and then grinned at his pawn. “Find out and take care of it.” The emphasis was on “take care of it.” Joey knew he had been given an out. He could leave, but his life depended on what had been or had not been said at the moment the junkie regained consciousness. He rushed out of the room. The heavy office doors slammed shut behind him as he left. Anger taunted him as he fled the office, reminding him that he had been made a fool in there, Fear became silent with the reality that Murder had now been assigned to this captive. These three would be a mighty force to direct this pawn’s choices.
There were hundreds of people present for Mary Dell and Waunda’s funeral. David arrived at the church and slid into a seat in the back. He watched as the people filtered in. The crowd yesterday was mostly teenagers, but today there were people of all ages. It was amazing to watch. The people would greet each other with a hug and a kiss. They were grieving, yet when they would look at each other, there was a joy in seeing one another, a joy in being together, a joy… It didn’t make any sense to David at all. They were obviously grieving, but the heaviness that had choked David and Jonathan yesterday didn’t seem to be in this place. Obviously, these ladies were loved, but to watch the people come in, you would have thought that they had just left and could return at any minute. Yesterday, David was overwhelmed, today he was just confused.
He leaned back just watching, and he grinned. He tried to be somber, but he could not. This was just too amazing, and his was not the only smile. He noticed that all the eyes in the house turned to watch as a large, distinguished looking man walked in. He knew from the paper that this man’s name was Timothy McDonald. The man that stood before the congregation didn’t even slightly resemble what David had imagined a minister of such a large church would look like. The creases around his eyes revealed a man who must normally smile, but the genuine sadness of the women’s deaths was causing a strain to his normal demeanor. He was grieving, but there was strength in those eyes that David had rarely seen before. The minister walked purposefully to the front of the church and hugged each member of both families. His eyes rested for a moment on each one. They knew him, and David could tell by the looks, they loved him. The husband of one of the deceased women smiled as he hugged this large man who looked as if he had just whispered something funny. David’s amazement deepened.
Music began, and the people gathered quickly. The beat was fast, and the message of the songs spoke of a better place “over the hillside...,” and “...it will be worth it all when we see His face.” David listened as nearly a thousand people sang of a hope that defeats death, of living forever with a Lord that they knew existed and they loved. Several songs later, the minister began to speak. His deep Kentucky accent was pleasant and his words intelligent and full of wisdom. David’s mind settled, and he slowly began to recall the hopelessness that filled him yesterday, and then the release he felt when he prayed to this invisible God that he had just met. Gradually, he began to understand that what he experienced last night must be similar to what they have experienced and the source of their joy and their hope. “This is real,” David mused and then grinned again, this time at the irony of discovering real hope at a funeral.
The service ended, and the minister announced that everyone was invited to the fellowship hall. “Waunda and Mary Dell would have liked everyone to have a good meal today. They would have been pleased to share in the abundance of food that so many of you have brought to share. There is more than enough for everyone, so come.” David didn’t understand the statement about all the food, but he had had enough surprises, so he stood up and started to leave.
“David, wait!” A voice in the crowd sounded familiar. He stopped and quickly scanned the crowd. “David, it’s me, Terri.” David turned around to see Terri standing next to some young male teen.
He was again surprised, “What are you doing out of the hospital already?”
“They couldn’t find anything wrong with me, so they let me out.” She smiled, and her eyes spoke volumes to David. He laughed out loud. He quickly looked around; he was, after all, at a funeral, but no one seemed to notice his laugh.
“Terri, did you know these women, too?” Her eyes instantly filled with tears. “I’m sorry,” David gently added, “you have been through a lot. How are you doing?”
Terri squeezed the arm of the younger teen standing with her which seemed to comfort her and said, “This is my brother, Bobby.” David nodded at the young man as Terri continued. “They were friends of Mom’s. I’ve known them all my life.” She paused to take a deep breath and shed a few tears. “It is really nice of you to come here. I saw you yesterday, too. You helped Debra, when she fainted at the memorial service.”
David hadn’t thought about Terri being at either of these memorial services. How could she be handling all of this? He had no idea what to say.
Suddenly, Terri reached over and hugged him, “Thank you for being here, thank you for everything.” She seemed to be handling it pretty well, he realized, and he was glad. “David, you helped Debra yesterday, would you help me today?”
“Sure, what do you need?” He hesitated but was curious.
“If you don’t mind, I told Pastor Tim all about you. Would you let me introduce you? It would be a real honor.”
He shook his head again. Honor, joy, hope… this was indeed a strange church. “Sure, I would love to meet this man.” David walked about two steps behind the two teenagers. Everyone was talking and moving around casually. He watched as they approached the minister and the good-sized crowd around this man. He noticed that the minister was also intentionally watching everything going on around him, and that he opened a space for them near him and motioned the kids to come in close.
Terri and her brother Bobby politely introduced David to Pastor Tim. “This is the paramedic I told you about. Isn’t it neat, that he’s here? It’s great that you can meet him.”
“Just call me Tim,” the man said with a smile, extending his hand to David. His deep southern drawl seemed to fit this educated, but friendly man. He looked deeply into David’s eyes and David grinned as he returned the firm handshake. He had earlier tried to imagine why such large crowds would come to hear this man preach, now he understood. He’s just a man … a real man, no pretense.
Tim must have understood the look on David’s face. His countenance relaxed, “So, Terri has learned how to brag. She told me that she was dying and that she came back to life in the back of the ambulance. Do you often see people rise up from the dead?”
David recognized the play on words. He laughed softly, “No, not too often.”
Tim’s eyes widened and were full of delight. If he had laughed as loudly as his eyes revealed his joy, David was sure the walls would have come down with the sound of it. But Tim contained himself from laughing, and David instantly liked this man even more.
Terri grinned, then excused herself; she had to return to her family. When she had disappeared into the crowd, David asked softly, "Did she tell you everything she saw?”
“Oh, I guess so. Terri isn’t one to go on about spiritual things, so I’m more inclined to believe her. It was quite a testimony. I guess the proof of it is that she is still here. Do you think there was a chance she really could have died?”
“Could have died?” He paused to consider what he was willing to reveal. “I can’t believe she did anything else but die. No, she really was that far gone. I thought I was watching her take her last few breaths when suddenly, she just woke up. Just woke up! It was amazing.”
Tim’s shoulders seemed to stretch a little, he seemed a little taller. Obviously, David’s confirmation of Terri’s true condition pleased Tim to no small degree. “Did you pray with the girl?”
David thought for an instant about the boldness of this man. But so much had happened in these last few days, he thought, Why not? He smiled as he looked back into this minister’s eyes. “Well, preacher, I guess I did.”
Tim placed his hand on David’s shoulder, “Listen, she must have really scared you, if you were willing to believe her then. But scared or not, the experience is real. How have you been since then?”
This question pierced David’s mind like a light in a dark room, putting the emotional roller coaster of the last few days in perspective. “I was thinking last night, after the teenagers’ memorial service yesterday, that if I came today, I would get a clue to what is going on.”
“Was that your question?”
“Well, no… how did you know I had a question?”
“Let’s just say that most of those who come to the Lord usually have questions.”
David knew there was much more than that behind Tim’s knowing. “I wanted to know what the point was in trying. We’re all going to die one day anyway, so why even try?”
“So then, what’s the answer?” Tim asked back, catching David off guard.
“Well…” David began, and paused. He had learned something. He would try it out on this amazing man, “Well, I think the point is just that. That we are all going to die. The point is to figure out what matters while we are living.”
“Go on…” Tim’s eyes revealed the depth to which he honestly wanted to hear David’s answer, drawing David out further.
“Yesterday, I realized that the issue with the teenagers is that they chose something contrary to life, and the result was death. They obviously didn’t want to die, but they did want to have the right to do what they wanted to do, even if they knew it was wrong.” David paused as he thought of this answer. “Choosing to do something contrary to life is ultimately death.”
“We call that sin. Did you ever hear the scripture that says, ‘the wages of sin is death’?”
“That’s it, exactly. That is what I was trying to say.” David dropped his eyes to the ground. “No, I really hadn’t heard it before. I have never been to church before. I didn’t think I would fit in. Mrs. Blake did give me a Bible, though. I’m reading John. Do you think that was a good book, to begin with?”
Tim’s eyes widened as he considered the scope of what was just revealed. “David, do you like to golf?”
David was not about to figure this man out. “Yes, I like to golf, why?”
“I have several firemen that attend this church. So, I know y’alls schedule, that you have time off during the weekdays. Well, you know what they say about preachers. We do love our golf. Would you like to get together with me next week and play some?”
“Sure…” David said out loud, while his mind thought, Amazing.
“Here’s my card. My phone number is on it, too. You call me, or text me with whatever dates are good for you. We’ll find a day when we can both get together, ok?” Tim reached over and placed his right hand on David’s shoulder. “It would mean a lot to me if you’d come and hear me preach. But it would mean a lot more to me if we can get to know one another.” David picked his jaw up from the floor. He had asked himself why so many people came to hear this ordinary man speak. He now knew why. “Will I see you Sunday?” Tim asked.
