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TITLE: Heaven's Gifts By denica mac 08/29/06 |
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Heaven’s Gifts
By Denica McCall
Summer 2005
“What is goin’ on here? Where is he?”
“I’m sorry sir, but you’ll have to wait.”
“Wait? N... no...no! I’m not gonna wait. What are you thinkin’? He’s my son!” At that moment a stretcher was rushed by with a young child on it, attended by several babbling doctors and nurses. The desperate man whipped himself around immediately and caught the briefest glimpse of the boy he thought he had kissed goodbye just that morning. Yet his appearance was dramatically disfigured; blood ran down his innocent face in streams. Upon recognizing the child, the man tore at his hair and widened his screaming eyes; then he ran after the stretcher; he ran until he was stopped by some hospital personnel who attempted to calm him down, but to no avail. The man struggled as if he were being taken to be tortured.
“What is yer name, sir?” a nurse asked him, trying to speak over his desperate demands.
“What did you say,” he ripped back.
Then louder, “I said, what is yer name?”
“My name is Gavin Lawrence, and you have no right to keep me from seein’ my son!” He pointed frantically to where they had taken the stretcher through. “That… that was my son!”
Still holding onto his arm, the nurse said, “Calm down, Mr. Lawrence. What is yer son’s name?”
The tears began to well up in Gavin’s eyes, and he responded, clenching his teeth, “His name is Dillon; he’s only six years old, and I demand to know if he’s okay!”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Lawrence, but yer son was accidentally shot in the head on the way home from school… There is a significant chance that he won’t make it. They’re tracking down the perpetrator right now.”
The man’s heart sank and he dropped to his knees, ignorant of the sympathetic plump nurse. My God, save him! The kind of tears that come straight from a father’s heart rolled down his cheeks. Then he looked up again, catching a brief moment of reality as he saw the nurse, with her little name tag that read, “Sandra.” He stood up and yelled, “Let me see ‘im! Now!”
“I’m sorry Mr. Lawrence. Your son is undergoing emergency surgery. No one is allowed in the room… The doctors will do everything they can to save Dillon’s life. All I suggest…Mr. Lawrence…is that you go sit down over there and pray… pray hard, cus’ there’s nothin’ else you can do right now.”
Gavin reluctantly resolved to do as the nurse advised. He strolled over to the waiting area where all eyes were trying hard not to stare at him, because of all the noise he had made earlier. An old gentleman quickly looked down and buried his face in his newspaper and a young lady lowered her eyebrows and glanced to the side. Gavin glared at all of them, and then plopped down in the red and brown cushioned chair. Immediately his face dropped into his hands, and again he began to sob… and pray… until he felt something brush past his knee. Face still buried in hands, he noticed that whatever, whoever had brushed his knee was still there, right in front of him. He slightly lifted his face so he could only see through a small slit in his fingers. What he saw was pink; in fact, a pink dress with white flowers dotting it. He decided to lift his tear-stained face all the way, and he looked directly ahead at a little girl, a little girl with a pink dress. Upon seeing the man’s face, a smile immediately broke out on the girl.
Stretching out her hands, the girl exclaimed, “Daddy! You’re okay; you’re okay! I love you daddy!” She hugged his neck.
As much as Gavin was confused at this unexpected exclamation, he was touched; he was comforted by the little angel. But after this brief unreal moment, Gavin began to think of the girl’s real father. Oh no. No. What could have happened to her real daddy? Dear God, may this little girl’s father be alright!
Gavin looked directly at the excited girl as she tried to pull at his hand to get him up. He smiled, then stammered out, with sorrow in his voice, “I…I’m not yer daddy sweety. I’m so sorry; I sure hope he’s okay.” The girl in the pink dress suddenly got confused and turned to who seemed to be her grandma, with a questioning look in her eyes. Her grandma just looked down with a sorrowful face; obviously she had made the same assumption. The girl looked again at Gavin’s tear-stained face, her concerned expression penetrating deep into his heart. Then she said sweetly, “But… you look so much like daddy.”
“What’s yer name, little girl?”
“Catie Gibbons,” she responded in her sweet little southern accent.
“Well it’s nice to meet you Catie. Now why don’t you go with your grandma. I’ll pray fer yer daddy.”
“Why were you cryin’?” said the little blonde.
“Well, Catie… sometimes you just can’t control what happens in life. My son might die. I’m just waitin’ to see if he’s alright, just like you hope you’re daddy’s okay.”
“Let’s go, Catie, the doctor says we can see him now.” It was her grandma.
Catie made her last remarks to Gavin and then hurried off to take her grandma’s nervous hand. As they walked down the hall, Catie turned her head to glance once more at the man who looked strangely like her father. Gavin just smiled back and then continued to pray… and hope.
Sometimes you just can’t control what happens in life. Little Catie remembered the man’s words as she solemnly watched the big wooden box being carefully lowered into the dirt. It was just yesterday that she had spoken with her father. She didn’t understand why he couldn’t respond anymore, why it seemed as though he had passed out of this life and into another one in the time it took to blink an eye. And now the honorable man that once told her that he loved her and held her in his strong arms and laughed with her and told her stories would be forever buried under the ground. How could life change so fast? Just like that? Oh how she wished that the man’s words didn’t have to be true. Yet this truth stared her straight in the eyes through her father’s lifeless face.
It was a cold, windy day in October. Black pieces of clothing surrounding a coffin in the ground were swept to the side as the people who wore them mourned for the lost soul. Catie held her grandma’s trembling hand, who was also crying for her lost son. Catie wouldn’t cry herself. She promised her daddy she would be strong. She did cry initially, as it was difficult to hold back being just a girl of eight. But she wouldn’t cry today. Instead, she would think about all the fun times she had shared with her dad so she would never forget. Her greatest fear was forgetting.
Catie was unsure of what lied ahead. After her mother’s tragic accident when she was just a baby, and now that the cancer had entirely eaten up her father’s brain, who knew what could happen next? She would probably live with her grandma, yes, but what would life be like now? It would never be the same. She was afraid; she was sad; life didn’t seem to offer her any hope at the moment.
“Opening news tonight- boy shot in the head on the way home from school- in critical condition- shooter unknown as of right now… Did you see this Tommy?”
A young man with a worn T-shirt and long shorts approached the couch where his friend sat, carrying two cokes in his hands.
“Uh…nah…haven’t heard that one yet,” he answered nervously, handing his friend a coke as he took a seat next to him.
“It’s right here,” pointing to the TV, “See? Man, how awful.” The camera zeroed in on a bald witness with a microphone shoved in his face. He told the news crew, “Yeah, I was just drivin’, an’ I saw a yellow car pull up awfully close to the school bus, and then bam! Bullets went flyin’ an’ I couldn’t believe what I was seein’. Why would someone just start shootin’ at a bus full o’ kids? It all happened too fast for me to catch the license plate number. I sure hope they find the guy.”
Tommy was staring at the TV dumbfounded.
“Hey…Tom… wake up dude! Are you alright?”
“Um… ya, sorry…hey, we’re missin’ my favorite show…gimme that remote.” Tommy stole the remote from his friend’s hand and changed the channel.
The room was dark and still when Gavin entered, and all he could hear was the beeping of the heart monitor and the strained breathing of his son. Dillon wasn’t much to look at; the bullet had severely disfigured his face. The doctors said the surgery had gone well… as well as it could, of course, for such a fatal wound.
Gavin slowly approached the bedside and knelt down; he softly put his hand on Dillon’s forehead and began to speak quietly, trembling as he did so. Then the eyes of the little boy started to twitter and gradually opened; he barely looked alive if it wasn’t for his eyes.
“Dillon! You’re awake. I love you son… I’m so sorry this had to happen.” He took the boy’s hand. He continued to talk in a half whisper as he said, “Can you talk? Can you open yer mouth?”
The little boy used all the strength he could muster up to move his lips. He responded in a barely audible voice, “Am I gonna die, daddy?”
“I don’t know, Dill, but I’m prayin’…Just don’t be afraid, alright? I’ll always be here for you.” The boy began to moan; he was obviously in pain.
“Okay daddy.” Then he closed his eyes.
Gavin just sat there admiring his brave son until five minutes later—then the monitor went flat. He couldn’t believe his ears. No! God, how could you do this to me? The doctors said the surgery went well…They said it went well. He began to softly weep.
When the doctors approached the door of the room they saw a man with his head face down on a small boy’s chest. He shook as he silently wept over his son’s small lifeless body. It was a sight no doctor ever wants to see.
“Hey! Come back! Don’t you dare do this to me, Lisa! How am I supposed to take care of a baby?
A young woman with long straight brown hair, carrying numerous duffel bags and backpacks, whipped around, having just reached the door.
In a firm tone she replied, “Y’know what, Gavin, this is what you get for bein’ such a lousy worker that you can’t even provide for yer own family. This is what you get for bein’ such a lousy husband that I feel like I can’t even talk to you anymore! You deserve this! And I am fed up with having to take care of a child by myself! You would never help Gavin, you just wouldn’t, so this…this is what you get. Don’t expect to see me ‘round again!” With that she left and slammed the door behind her, leaving young Gavin just standing there dumbfounded and angry, but at the same time helpless. He ran his fingers through his scraggly brown hair and let out a deep breath, then turned to face the little round wooden table directly behind him in the dining room. He moseyed his way over to the table and looked down. A little baby lying in a small carrier stared up into his blue eyes and made a funny baby noise. Gavin just shook his head and carefully lifted the baby out of the carrier. The baby began to playfully hit Gavin’s nose.
“Well, Dillon, looks like it’s just you an’ me now. Hope I can do you justice. Maybe I should actually learn how to be a good father.” The baby made another noise and Gavin just sighed.
Having been recently unemployed, Gavin figured it was about time to find a job, especially knowing he had a little child to take care of. He wanted to get a good start, so he woke up early and began altering his scraggly appearance. He looked in his bathroom mirror and made a disgusted face at himself, then looked down at little Dillon, who was in his carrier again on the bathroom floor. Dillon just giggled.
“How do I look, Dillon? Nice?” Gavin did look much nicer. He was clean shaven, his hair was combed and slicked to the side, and he wore a black suit with a tie. He was dressed for success. He looked in the mirror and smiled at himself while he said half to Dillon and half to himself, “I’m gonna be a new man, Dillon…” He straightened his tie. “That’s right, a new man, a fresh start, just you an’ me.”
It was quite a change for the young man of twenty-four. Having been left by his wife and being now in charge of a little life forced Gavin to clean up his act and start learning to be responsible. The reality of having someone desperately dependant on you can tend to do that to people. Consequently, although Gavin couldn’t see it at the time, his current situation would turn out to be a benefit, even if it was only for him to become a better man.
As a child, Gavin had dreams of what his future would hold, as most of us do. But for him, these dreams were more of an escape into an imaginary world of hope than an actual plan for the future. He would often wake up to the sound of his mother and father fighting. His mother would cry as his drunk father would yell and threaten to kick her out of the house or whatever else he could think of. He never actually did those things, though. He just had a tendency to get angry over small issues, especially when he was drunk. When he would hear their fights, Gavin would normally just turn up his favorite music really loud, squeeze his eyes shut, and attempt to journey into his dream world, the one filled with brave adventures and heroic rescues, which seemed to offer the only joy in his life. When Gavin was ten years old, his older sister Reese got pregnant and had an abortion. That was it for him; there had to be something wrong with that, let alone the whole lifestyle of his family. There was a boy at Gavin’s school who would occasionally talk about a church he went to. His name was Mickey. Mickey wasn’t very popular, but Gavin noticed what a nice kid he was, and he thought maybe it had to do something with church. Gavin was fed up with his family situation, so one day he decided to take a risk and talk to Mickey about church. Mickey gladly invited Gavin to the Sunday service. He took the offer reluctantly but desperately.
Gavin discovered something that day at church that he could never recall experiencing before. As he stood during worship it was as if a soft warm wave was sweeping over him, and he had peace; somehow he knew everything was going to be okay, because there was someone, somewhere who cared for him and was watching out for him. He didn’t know who it was, but he could sense it in the presence of this church.
Gavin leaned over and whispered to his new friend, “Mickey, who’s here? I mean, besides the people?”
“Well, Gavin, God’s here. And He’s always with us, y’know?”
“God?” He pondered the thought. “Could I meet ‘im?”
“Well, sure… here, let’s get down on our knees an’ we can pray to ‘im.” The boys carefully knelt down as the music continued to play. They were squished in between two rows of chairs and surrounded by people engaged in worship, but to Gavin, it was just him, Mickey, and this peace that penetrated his heart.
“Alright, Gavin, all ya have to do to meet God is talk to ‘im and ask ‘im to come and live inside yer heart. Ya have to know that He loves you, that He’s forgiven yer sins, and He sent his son Jesus to die for you. Just believe this, and give yer life to ‘im, an’ He’ll never leave you.”
What Gavin discovered for the first time that morning was love. He’d never really felt loved before, and although he didn’t understand everything right away, he knew his life would never be the same. Someone was watching out for him.
I love you, Gavin. Choose me over her; it’s not worth it.
He didn’t listen. He had forgotten. When a young lady named Lisa entered Gavin’s life, things changed. Lisa went to the same high school as Gavin. She was beautiful, but she didn’t know the Lord. She was rebellious in that she wouldn’t listen to her parents, she got drunk frequently, and, frankly, she did whatever she wanted. A few years after they both graduated, Gavin and Lisa grew quite fond of each other. They soon decided to get married, which was not a wise choice for Gavin. He forgot about his Father and became a lousy husband and dad because he rejected God’s sovereign guidance. That brought him to this point. Now he would clean up his act. He would realize his desperation for God again and trust him once more.
“You’ve always pulled me out, God. Now is not the time to leave me. Why can’t ya just make ‘im alive again? Why can’t I just hold ‘im in my arms once more, tell ‘im that I love ‘im? Are you gonna just leave me here… leave me in this place of despair? He’s all I had to live for… he’s why I got a job as a photographer after Lisa left me… he’s why I became a better man.” It was Gavin’s despondent prayer to God as he lay in his bed that night; he wouldn’t sleep, though. The pain of loss was unbearable.
The morning finally came. A young man was walking down the sidewalk carrying a warm paper cup full of coffee… until something caught his eye. It was a red newspaper stand. It wasn’t the stand that caught his attention though; it was the cover story of the day’s newspaper—Wednesday, October 19, 2005. The scraggly young man with the patched jacket and faded holey jeans stopped in his path and lowered his coffee from his lips. He read the headline in astonishment. “No…” He was breathing heavy, even though he wasn’t tired from his walk. “…no…no!” When he realized that people heard him, he stopped and warily looked around, then he tried to keep his mouth shut with a look of anguish on his face. How could he do this? He never told me he was gonna kill somebody! That son of a… A gentleman in a nice leather coat came to purchase of the newspapers. He seemed quite somber as he said, “Excuse me.” The young man stepped aside, speechless by all that had taken place.
A red Volkswagen pulled into a hidden alley way where a young man sat smoking. The driver, wearing a patched gray jacket and holey jeans, slowly opened the car door and stepped out as visible clouds of breath streamed from his nostrils. The man was apparently upset. He had a determined, fast-paced walk, and was looking directly at the man smoking as he approached. Immediately upon recognizing his brother, the man in the alley looked at him and let out a quick chuckle. Mockingly, he said, “Why the angry face lil’ bro?” Almost before he could finish the sarcastic question, his younger brother fiercely grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up. The man dropped his cigarette.
“Why? Why’d ya do it? I can’t believe you would do such a thing! I have had it with you and your dirty acts! I’m not gonna work for ya anymore. No… I’m not even gonna call you my brother anymore.”
“Hey, Tom… hold up, why’r ya so upset?”
“Why do ya think?”
“Is it about the paper? ‘Cus if it is, I have an explanation.” Tommy let go of his collar reluctantly.
He snapped, “What?”
“I was hired, Tom.”
“You were hired to kill a little boy?” he asked in unbelief.
“Ya, I know it doesn’t sound right, but I was.”
“By who?”
“Well, he called himself Mr. Lawrence.”
“What?! That’s the little boy’s last name! Yer sayin’ his own dad hired ya to kill ‘im?”
“Well, maybe, I dunno. I didn’t actually see ‘im. It was a telephone call.”
“You ignorant fool! Ya can’t just kill someone ‘cus you were hired! They’re gonna find you, Billy, and I… I don’t’ give a rip.” With that Tommy left the alley and skidded away in his Volkswagen.
Tommy was in the kitchen making himself some macaroni and cheese as the typical woman’s anchor voice sounded on his TV set. “It was on the front page of Alabama Daily and has become known as today’s ‘horror story.’ A six-year-old boy named Dillon Lawrence was shot in the head on Monday and immediately transported to the local hospital where he received emergency surgery. Dillon died from his wounds the next day. He was allegedly shot at by someone in a yellow vehicle that pulled up next to the school bus he was riding. As of yet, the shooter is a mystery. You are asked to call the police immediately if you know anything about the murderer… Breaking news tonight—a dog—stranded on an island…” The noise faded out of Tommy’s head. All he could think about was what had transpired with his brother. He debated whether to call the police or not, and if he did, whether to tell them that Billy shot the boy or that someone called “Mr. Lawrence” hired someone to kill him, or both. He knew something, so he really should call. It was the right thing to do, he thought. Billy’s gonna kill me. He cautiously picked up his cell phone and dialed the number.
“Hello- Birmingham police department- how can I help you?” It was a young woman’s voice. Tommy hesitated, then took a deep breath. Here goes.
“Uh…hi. I’m callin’ ‘bout that story on the news about the boy who was shot…”
“Oh, yes.”
“I…have some information that might be helpful in your search…actually, quite frankly, I know who killed that boy…what I don’t know is who hired ‘im.”
“That’s great news. I’ll just need his name and anything else that might help us track ‘im down.”
Dear God, help me.
“Alright… his name is Billy Bedford, an’ he lives on 1949 42nd Ave SW… his license plate says rebel05… an’ he said he was hired by a… Mr. Lawrence.”
“Okay, thank you… and I’ll need to know your name and contact number.”
I am so dead.
“Y’know what, I’m just gonna tell ya… I’m Billy’s brother. My name is Tommy Bedford… now believe me on this one… I didn’t have anything to do with this… or I wouldn’t be callin’.”
“Alright, sir… I’ll just need a number we can reach you at.”
“Screw the number! You can track me down anyway!” Click. Tommy was so frustrated and outraged at the situation he was in; he just couldn’t take it anymore.
“I have the whole conversation recorded. It was the strangest thing.” A young woman was trying to explain her recent phone conversation to the police chief.
In a deep southern accent the heavy man replied, “Alright, for all we know this man could be tellin’ the truth. Let’s contact the FBI an’ tell ‘em all we know. Get on it! Quick!”
It was a dreary day for Gavin. He couldn’t do anything but keep looking at the horrifying news article over and over. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe, just maybe, the next time he looked down at the front page of the Alabama Daily it wouldn’t be about the poor “six-year-old boy” who got shot; it would just be about a drought in Mexico or the hunting season coming up. It was about seven in the evening and already starting to get dark when the phone rang and woke Gavin up from his stupor. He picked up the receiver reluctantly.
“Hello?”
“Hello. Gavin?” It was a hoarse man’s voice.
“Who is this?”
“I’m so sorry Gavin…” He was talking slowly. “…now what do you believe? Is he in heaven, Gavin?
Gavin was beginning to get very irritated. He responded in a harsh tone, “What do you think yer talkin’ about? I demand to know who this is! Now!” Click. The line went dead. Gavin practically dropped the receiver. His breathing was heavy; his eyes were wide. Something in that man’s voice struck fear in his heart. He began to search the deepest parts of his mind for what the man could be talking about… who he could be. He thought of the people he knew now… no, couldn’t be any o’ them. Then he thought of people from his past. Like a bolt of lightning it struck him. Dad? No, no way. Gavin hadn’t seen his dad in thirteen years; when he was seventeen, he ran away from home. Gavin had been glad not to see or hear from his father since then. Could it be him?
A scared teenager and an angry man stood in a small living room. The man was yelling at the boy.
“I’m tellin’ ya son, any more talk of God or that blissful place in the sky or anything of the sort, an’ yer outta here… I disown you!”
The teenager was furious, but crying at the same time. “Dad, heaven’s real, an’ you can go there when you die if you believe in God… don’t ya wanna go there, dad?”
“You go there when ya die, huh. So I can kill ya, an’ it wouldn’t matter? We’ll see what you believe then!”
With all the rage he could muster up, the son yelled, “Try me!” and ran and barged out the front door.
The memories were a blur of confusion to Gavin as he woke up in the middle of the night. He had tried to forget a long, long time ago so the pain wouldn’t have to stay with him. But they were coming back, and that eerie phone call was beginning to make sense. Somehow his father had found out about Dillon’s death, probably from the news, and he was recalling their conversation of nearly thirteen years ago. Apparently he didn’t forget, or maybe he didn’t want to.
Be strong for me, sweetie. Whatever happens, don’t give up before you climb the mountain. The little girl sat in the empty chapel in utter distress. She didn’t want to be strong…no, she couldn’t be strong. As tears streamed down her face, she screamed out at the top of her lungs.
“Noo! No! I can’t take it any more.” She calmed down a little but continued to cry and moan. “How could you say that, daddy? No, I won’t be strong. Maybe if you were here I could be… but yer gone… everybody’s gone.” She buried her face in her crossed arms. A few minutes later, the little girl noticed a light was filling the room. She budged and slowly lifted her head, tears still rolling down her soft cheeks. As she sniffed and tried to catch her breath she realized that the sun was shining in through the window. It shone right into her green eyes, making them radiant and beautiful. It was an unusual phenomenon. The sun hadn’t shone like that in at least a month. Then it got even brighter and the light covered a larger area in the chapel. The girl looked confused, but dazzled. She looked directly in front of her and noticed that the sun was hitting the cross attached to the front wall. Sometimes sunlight could make things look so glorious. The little girl smiled faintly. It was as if the sun was a simple metaphor of hope. Maybe there was hope. Maybe this was a sign. She wiped her tears and began to pray… to pray to her heavenly Father as His desperate little girl.
Footsteps echoed behind her, and she turned to see who it was. It was a nurse, one of the ones who had helped her grandma.
“Catie? Are you alright honey?” She sat down next to the girl.
“It’s gonna be okay. I know how it feels. My mom died when I was little.” Catie just leaned on the kind nurse and let her hold her for a while. The nurse spoke a few minutes later.
“Alright, Catie, you don’t need to worry ‘bout anything. Yer daddy didn’t leave a will, an’ you don’t have any close relatives, so you’ll be in foster care ‘til we find someone that’s willin’ to adopt. I’m sure there’ll be some real nice people that want to take ya in.”
“But I miss my daddy.”
“I know, honey,” she said as she swept her blonde hair aside and kissed her on the forehead. “Let’s go, alright… everything’s gonna be just fine.”
Gavin let out a short laugh of unbelief as he held onto the doorknob.
“Mickey?”
“Ya… it’s me.” The short man with dyed blonde hair was a step below Gavin, outside in the cold; he wore a brown sweater, and his hands were in his jean pockets. After making the comment he looked down at his feet, unsure if he made the right choice to stop in without notice… but, then again, it was somewhat urgent.
“Mickey Bedford? No way!” Gavin was utterly shocked; all he could do was stand there holding the door open as his long lost friend stood on the concrete step freezing and huffing out clouds of breath.
Mickey found the situation humorous; he smiled. “Um… are ya gonna let me in or not Gav?”
“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry. Ya, come in.” Mickey gratefully stepped up into the warm house. “You can sit down over there if you want.” He pointed to a leather couch in the small living room.
“I suppose ya heard the news, huh?”
Mickey suddenly looked nervous. “Um… ya… oh, man, I’m so sorry Gav. I just want ya to know, if there’s anything I can do… I’m here for ya, alright?”
“Thanks Mickey; ‘preciate it… Man! I can’t believe it’s you! I haven’t seen ya in years!”
“True.” He chuckled.
“So… why’d ya come?”
Mickey gave out a long sigh. “Well… I needed to talk to ya ‘bout sumthin’…” It was a little hard to get out. “…After I heard ‘bout yer tragedy I… I had some suspicions…”
“What’r ya talkin ‘bout? What kind o’ suspicions?”
“Well… they have t’ do with yer father… Y’know he hates me… but he called me a couple weeks ago… it was the weirdest thing. He asked for my cousin’s phone number… y’know the one that would never follow the Lord. Gavin, I had no idea why he would want his number. I dunno, Gav, but it just seems to me like there’s sumthin’ goin’ on between yer father an’ my cus… and it could have t’ do with Dillon.” He let out a deep breath. I got it out.
Gavin was speechless. He knew what his friend was trying to say. How could dad do sumthin’ like that? But it makes perfect sense. Their broken relationship. The bitterness. The phone call… that’s right… the phone call just the other day!
Gavin still just sat there, unable to come up with words to speak to the bringer of this news, who now hung his head. He suddenly became enraged and sorrowful at the same time; it was a flood of emotions that resulted from pondering all that had transpired in the last few days. These had to be the worst days of his life. And the possibility that his father actually tried to kill his son seemed to deal the final blow. How much worse could life get? God, why? God didn’t seem to be answering lately.
After this long pause, Mickey finally spoke up.
“Hey, Gav… y’know, I know it must be ‘real hard… but I think ya just need to get out, do sumthin’, get yer mind off o’ all this… what’d’ ya say we go out or sumthin’… just you an’ me, old buddies?”
Gavin didn’t want to be mean, but sometimes emotions make people do things they don’t really mean to do.
He yelled and caught Mickey slightly off guard. “No... no! No, I can’t! I’m sorry, but could ya leave? Please, just leave me alone!” He began to cry at the end of his exclamation.
Mickey started to slowly stand up, then managed to stammer, “I… I was just tryin’ to help, Gavin. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… I guess I can’t imagine how it feels. If ya want me to leave, I’ll leave… just know that you can call me whenever… and Gav, don’t forget that no matter what happens, God is watchin’ out for ya.” Then he left.
Gavin was sad he had treated his old friend that way, but he just couldn’t take it any longer. He didn’t know what to do. And he was losing his faith, slowly, but surely.
Having been placed in her first foster home, Catie couldn’t help but think about her dad all the time. He was such a nice man. Catie would dream of him just holding her close like he used to and telling her stories from the Bible. He always had a way of expressing the stories in exciting and creative ways; that’s how Catie remembered them so well.
I’m not yer daddy, sweetie. One day the thought just hit her. Oh ya, the guy at the hospital. I wonder if his son was okay. She obviously hadn’t seen or heard the news lately, or she would have known the dreadful reality. Something in that man struck her; he not only looked like her dad, he almost acted like him too. That soft, calming voice. Those loving eyes. The thought almost made her cry. He reminded her so much of him. She tried to hold back her tears. Just then her bedroom door opened, which slightly startled her. It was her foster mom.
“What’s the matter, sweetie?” She noticed her few tears and her solemn face and knelt down by the bed Catie was sitting on. Catie just sniffed.
“Ya just can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout ‘im?” Catie shook her head.
“Well… I was gonna see if you wanted to go get sumthin’ to eat. We can go anywhere ya want.”
“Alright; I guess so.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
It was another weary night for Gavin. He couldn’t let go of the shock and the anger that came when he found out about who very well could have killed Dillon. Actually, it was more of an I should’ve known than a shock. As he slouched on his leather couch and flipped through the boring channels, he heard an unexpected knock at the door. Great, who is it this time? He threw down the remote and reluctantly stood up to open the door. He wore flannel pajama bottoms with a tan T-shirt and disheveled hair; and he looked tired. He opened the door and was quite surprised to see who stood there. The young officer held out his ID and said blandly in that authoritative tone, “FBI; Mr. Lawrence, I’d like to ask you a few questions about yer son.”
Gavin was hesitant; but after all, it was the FBI.
“Ya… alright, c’mon in officer.”
“Thank ya.” He stepped in the door.
“Um… please, sit down… would ya like anything to drink?”
“No thanks… I’m just here to question.”
“Alright. Go ahead.” He was starting to get nervous.
“I’m gonna get straight to the point. Mr. Lawrence, there have been accusations against you concerning yer son… it’s been said that you hired someone to kill ‘im, a man by the name of Billy Bedford, which he denies. Now, we’re not pressin’ charges yet, but we’d like to know if this is true. Now, it can all be over now if ya just tell the truth. So don’t be shy.”
There have been accusations? Who could’ve done this? How in the world could they suspect me? Gavin’s heart was bursting with anger and despair, but he chose to remain calm on the outside. He let out a long breath and slightly shook his head. Then he looked squarely at the FBI agent.
“Officer, I love my son very much…” He was on the brink of tears. “…I love ‘im so much I’d be more than willin’ to take ‘is place.” He got very serious and was almost talking in a whisper. “There is no way that I could even dream of hirin’ someone to murder my son… he means the world to me, sir… an’ I’m not gonna let anyone accuse me of doin’ such a thing… You’ve gotta understand.” His tone changed. “Do you have any human compassion, officer? If you only knew how much I loved my son, you wouldn’t dare talk to me ‘bout some anonymous accusations!”
This expression of such emotion caused the agent to become solemn.
“I understand, Mr. Lawrence, an’ it wasn’t necessarily you, but we have to leave all possibilities open… If it wasn’t you, could you by any chance tell me who it might’ve been, someone who would go by Mr. Lawrence?”
Gavin was reluctant to answer, but he was pretty sure now that he knew. He had to tell him. He was still fighting back the tears that seemed so persistent.
“Mr. Lawrence?”
“Ya… um…” He decided to let it out. “It… it was my father; I just know it, an’ he’s also Mr. Lawrence.”
“Do you have any ground on which to base this conjecture?”
“It’s not a conjecture, sir. My father’s the missin’ link… An old friend o’ mine stopped by the other day an’ told me ‘bout a phone conversation he had with my father. He wanted to know his cousin’s phone number. Sir… his cousin is Billy Bedford. It all fits perfect, like a puzzle… had to be ‘im.”
“Thank you, Mr. Lawrence.” He stood up to shake his hand. “If we find out anything new, we’ll be in touch with you right away… I’m sorry ‘bout what happened.”
“Thanks. Have a good night officer.”
“You too.” With that the agent left. Gavin closed the door behind him and took several deep breaths.
Yet again Gavin found it difficult to get to sleep that night. He had too much rolling around in his head to find peace even in his silent bedroom. He just lay there with his hands behind his head staring at the ceiling. Then something on the wall stood out to him. It was the little wooden cross he had hung up to remember who was Lord of his life. Tonight it stood out more than ever. Gavin’s eyes began to be opened as he stared at the small token, so full of meaning and power. I’ve forgotten. God, forgive me. Please, reveal to me why this is happening. Just then Gavin felt the presence of his savior fill the room; he was filled with indescribable emotion; he knew God was there with him; he felt His love, just like that day in church so many years ago. Gavin, I love you. But you’ve forgotten; you’ve forgotten my love; you’ve forgotten my cross… and redemption. Gavin could picture his Father’s face, eyes blazing with love, but forehead creased with pain. Do you think, Gavin, that I would let something like this happen for no reason? I always have a reason, you just don’t always understand; that’s where trust comes in.
What have I done, God? What have I done to hurt you?
Gavin, you’ve blocked everyone out of your life because of the pain a few people have caused you. Don’t allow yourself to be ruled by your emotions, or you’ll never be restored… And don’t forget my sacrifice; don’t forget that I love you… and I want to restore you. Nothing can separate you from my love.
Gavin began to cry, for he realized what he was doing. He wasn’t trusting God. He was losing his faith just because something bad happened to him. He wanted to change; he wanted to do something for someone else. He didn’t want to lose purpose just because he lost the one he had given his whole life to for the past six years.
“Hey Mickey… it’s me, Gavin.”
“Hey Gav… thanks fer callin’ man. Whatsup?”
“I was just wundrin’ if ya wanted to still get together or sumthin’… I really do miss ya.”
“Ya, that’d be great! Where ya wanna meet?”
“Let’s just go eat lunch somewhere… I’ll meet ya at the 7/11 right down my street.”
“Alright… sounds like a plan… Hey, Gav… I’m really glad ya called… I wasn’t so sure ‘bout ya the other night.”
“Ya, well, things’ve changed… I’ll tell ya ‘bout it later.”
“Alright… see ya!”
“See ya.” He hung up the phone and smiled faintly.
A middle-aged woman and a young girl were walking down the sidewalk when something—or was it someone—caught the girl’s attention in a restaurant window they were passing by.
“Debbie, stop!” She looked through the window and couldn’t believe her eyes.
“What is it, Catie?”
“Look!” She was staring at a man who was talking with another man sitting in one of the window seats. Suddenly the man turned and looked at her; he did a double take, and the second time he looked quite surprised—almost pleasantly surprised.
“What? Do ya know that man?” Catie wanted to cry.
“It looks like daddy.” Catie ran to the door and opened it as fast as she could before her foster mom could respond or the greeter ask her if she wanted a seat. She ran instantly to the table where the man was sitting—and then stopped. They both just stared at each other for a while, not sure what to say. The man’s friend looked surprised and greatly confused.
“It’s Catie, right?” The man spoke.
“Yes… Yer not daddy, are you?”
“No… I’m not yer daddy…” He said it just like he said it before. “…Remember, we met in the hospital… Did yer daddy make it okay?” Now Catie really wanted to cry; she could barely hold it back.
“No… I thought… I thought maybe you could be ‘im, like a miracle or sumthin’.”
“I’m so sorry Catie… I didn’t know.” She wiped her eyes as Mickey and Debbie were both staring and listening to this interesting conversation with much curiosity. Then Catie spoke up again.
“Did yer son make it?” He hesitated—what terrible news they were bringing each other!
“No… he didn’t make it… I definitely know how ya feel.” Catie walked over to Debbie, took her hand, and walked her over to the table.
“This is Debbie, my new foster mom… Debbie, this is… what’s yer name?” Gavin held out his hand. “Gavin—it’s nice to meet you, ma’am… both of ya… this is my friend Mickey.” Mickey held out his hand for both of them to shake.
“Well, Catie, it was sure nice seein’ ya again… I hope ya have a good day.” He smiled at Debbie. “Yer both welcome to stay an’ eat if ya want.”
Debbie spoke up. “That’s mighty nice of you… but actually we were just on our way to go shoppin’, so we’ll see ya ‘round. Goodbye.” She turned to leave, and Catie turned around one more time and sweetly waved goodbye to Gavin. He smiled and waved back. I sure hope I see ‘im again.
“What was that all about?” Mickey asked his friend after the woman and little girl left the diner.
“Well… now that’s an interesting story. When I was waitin’ at the hospital that little girl just came up to me and hugged me and called me her daddy. When I told her I wasn’t, she told me that I looked a lot like ‘im. So that’s how we met… she was also waitin’ to see if her dad was gonna be okay… I guess he wasn’t.”
“That’s too bad… hey, it’s a small world, huh?” He took a sip of his soda. Gavin chuckled.
“Ya… guess so.”
“It’s all yer fault, you son of a -----!” The enraged young man stood behind bars as he yelled at his brother. “Now they’re gonna put me on trial…” He spit.
“…And I’m gonna have to testify ‘gainst you… I told you, I didn’t give a rip if you were caught! At least ya got a lawyer.” Tommy’s face almost touched the bars on the opposite side.
“Why do ya have to be so good all the time, Tommy? Yer like my ever-ready conscience or sumthin’!” He continued to yell in his outrage.
“Sumthin’ like that, ya, ‘cus you don’t have one!” He paused. “I always told ya not to do sumthin’ stupid… an’ there ya go, not listenin’ and getting’ yerself in trouble… No one’s bailin’ ya out this time, Billy… yer on yer own… an’ I’m not helpin’ ya.”
Billy started to pretend like he was being nice, but to Tommy he looked and sounded pathetic.
“C’mon, Tom, we’ve always worked together, always been good buds…” His voice became a whisper and grew desperate. “Ya have to help me!”
Tommy did love his brother, but he knew there was nothing he could do to help him this time. He said calmly, “I’m sorry, Billy, but no. You got yerself into it, an’ I’m not gettin’ ya out… Sometimes ya have to learn from yer mistakes.”
Billy screamed, “I can’t believe you!” then sat down on his raggedy bed.
“I have to go… see ya in trial.” Then he left the prison.
It was the day after Gavin had gone out with his friend that the phone rang when he got back from work. He picked it up.
“Hello, this is Gavin.”
“Mr. Lawrence?” a deep voice responded.
“Yes, in other words,” he said sarcastically.
“Hi… this is Phil McKinley from the FBI… There is a hearing this Thursday at two o’ clock concerning yer son’s murder… Yer presence is requested as a witness. Can ya be there?”
“Um… ya… I’ll arrange fer it. Thank you, sir.”
“Thank you. An’ have a nice day, Mr. Lawrence.” They both hung up. Gavin sighed. Well, at least I’m not a suspect anymore. At least I don’t think so. Thank God fer that!
Walking into the courtroom was like walking into one of those legal TV shows for Gavin. He’d never been involved in a trial of this magnitude before. Everyone was jibber-jabbering like they always do before the judge smacks down the gavel and exclaims “Order in the court!” It was a sea of faces, some familiar, some not. He curiously looked over at the defendant’s table. First he saw the snobby lawyer—bald with a frown on his face. Next to him was a young man, probably in his twenties, who looked like a gang member or something of the sort. And there was one more man—he looked old and worn. He had a bitter expression on his face. Then their eyes met; Gavin knew those eyes! It was his father! As he stared at those bitter eyes, all Gavin’s childhood memories started to flood back to him. Thirteen years ago he had no intention of seeing his father again—and here he was; he could hardly even recognize him. The two were speaking to each other through their eyes. Gavin way saying I haven’t seen you in thirteen years—how could you even think to do such a horrible thing to me? His father was saying There you are… what a loser you turned out to be… you deserve evry evil that’s fallen upon you. Gavin could hardly hold in all his mixed emotions. He quickly looked away and spotted Mickey. As he glared at his father he proceeded to go sit by his friend.
“Hey there… you alright?” Mickey whispered.
“I guess, I just haven’t seen my father in thirteen years, that’s all,” he responded in a sarcastic manner.
“Ya… must all be strange to you.”
“Ya got that right.”
Bam! “Order in the court!” There it was, just like on TV.
The court proceeded, calling on several witnesses before it came to Gavin. It was a lengthy trial. After questioning Mickey, Tommy, and one of Billy’s friends the judge ordered a recess for later that night.
The night came. One more of Billy’s friends was put on the stand, and then it was Gavin’s turn.
“Yer Honor, the court calls Mr. Gavin Lawrence to the stand,” said the prosecuting lawyer. It was one of those young pretty blondes. Gavin took the stand and swore to tell the truth. Once again, his eyes met with his father’s, but he looked away when the blonde woman began to speak. She paced to and fro while she asked her questions, which was somewhat distracting.
“Mr. Lawrence, I understand that yer son was shot on Monday, October 17?”
He answered softly, “Yes, ma’am.”
“How were you notified of the incident?”
“Uh… by the hospital.”
“At this point, did you have any suspicions as to who might have shot yer son?”
“No ma’am, not at this point.”
“But you say you do now… why is that?”
“Because my friend Mickey told me what he told ya’ll earlier today—about the phone call ‘n all.”
“So you believe yer father hired a man to murder yer son?” He briefly hesitated, being overwhelmed.
“Yes, I do. He hired Billy Bedford.”
“Mr. Lawrence, why do you think yer father would do such a thing?”
“That’s a long story…” The grumpy judge spoke up. “Answer the question, Mr. Lawrence.” Gavin took a deep breath and began.
“I ran away from home when I was seventeen… I had been a Christian fer seven years, but my father never liked the idea… he finally decided he couldn’t put up with it anymore, an’ so I left…” His eyes met his father’s again. They were not friendly. “… We had a terrible fight before I did leave—I had reason to believe that he might even wanna kill me…” He paused again and the judge said, “Please continue, Mr. Lawrence.” Gavin swallowed. “…An’ then, the day after Dillon died I got a strange phone call… I knew it was my father, but he wouldn’t tell me… he told me he was sorry ‘bout Dillon, an’ then he asked me: What do ya believe now? Is he goin’ to heaven?... Yer Honor, everything fits together perfectly… it was ‘im; there’s no doubt in my mind.” Again, he glared at his father, who was frowning.
“No further questions Yer Honor.”
“Defense, do you wish to question the witness at this time?” The bald man spoke up.
“Yes, Yer Honor.” He stood up; this man didn’t pace.
He cleared his throat and then asked, “Mr. Lawrence, I understand that you were recently questioned by the FBI—you were one of their original suspects—is this not true?”
“Objection! Unrelated to the question at hand!” It was the blonde lawyer.
“Overruled—answer the question please.”
“Yes… it’s true”
“Now, why would they think to question you of all people?”
“Objection! Yer Honor, he’s tryin’ to blame a witness.”
“Overruled—the court wishes to hear the man’s response!”
“They would think that because Billy didn’t know exactly who he was talkin’ to when he was hired—all the man said is that he was Mr. Lawrence. My father is also Mr. Lawrence, Yer Honor—it’s not just me.” The bald lawyer was almost disappointed.
“No further questions.” He sat down.
The judge said, “Mr. Lawrence, you may leave the witness stand.” He did so.
For everyone, it seemed like an eternity before the judge finally made his decision. When he at length began to speak, everyone was all ears and eyes. The room went silent.
“The court finds the defendants Mr. John Lawrence and Mr. Billy Bedford… guilty—on charge of plotting to murder a six-year-old boy and carrying out their plans successfully…” The two defendants were furious—you could at least see it on their faces. “…Mr. Lawrence’s sentence will be twenty years in prison—Mr. Bedford—thirty years… court dismissed!” He smacked the gavel down again. The jibber-jabbering began.
“Wait—Yer Honor…” It was Gavin yelling out. “…I’d like to speak with my father before he goes.”
“You have no more than five minutes—go ahead.” He hesitantly approached his old man at the front of the room. They stared at each other for awhile. Then his father said something.
“Are ya gonna say sumthin’ er not, Gavin?”
“Dad… why’d ya do it?” He was speaking hardly above a whisper. He was still overwhelmed with emotion.
“To be honest… I wanted to see what you would do… to see if you would still believe in yer God.” He stated that last word mockingly.
“Well, good news—I still believe in ‘im dad.” Gavin’s father just looked to the side, almost like he was uninterested.
“Dad… Dillon is in heaven… ya still have a chance to believe in ‘im… please!” He looked at his son.
“Do you think I would want to believe in this God now? He’s not pullin’ me out, Gavin—what’s the use?”
“At least you can have eternal life!”
“No, I’m sorry, I can’t… Goodbye, Gavin—have a good life.” He turned to leave; their five minutes was almost up anyway.
Gavin yelled back at him with tears welling up in his eyes, “How can ya say have a good life after takin’ my son away from me?” That was how they parted.
Since returning to work, it was hard for Gavin to make kids smile anymore. He worked at one of those professional photography studios; part of the job description was to do whatever you could to make people smile—especially children, because they were always the most difficult. But it wasn’t easy for Gavin, because whenever he saw a little boy around Dillon’s age it made him think of him. He couldn’t get his mind off of his son.
I wish none of this had ever happened. Gavin sat alone eating his frozen dinner after returning home from work. He was thinking about Dillon sitting there with him, telling him about his day at school.
“So, Dill, how was yer first day of first grade?” Dillon slurped up a spaghetti noodle.
“Good.”
“Oh, c’mon, ya gotta tell me more than that—did you do anything excitin’ er new?”
“I met my new teacher, Mrs. Johnson—she has a huge pet lizard, an’ it cwrawled out of da cage when she left it open, an’ it amost attacked me!”
“Oh really… ya sure are good at exaggeratin’, aren’t ya?”
“No, it’s true—all true!”
“Ya I’m sure it is… alright, Dill, finish up yer spaghetti, an’ then go get ready fer bed, cus’ tomorrow’s yer second day, an’ ya don’t wanna be pooped.” Dillon giggled, and Gavin just smiled.
Gavin felt so lonely without his son; he didn’t even really have a family anymore, and he hated the thought of living alone again. Man, I need to get married er sumthin’. Then a thought hit him. Catie! She just lost her dad, I just lost my son… maybe God put ‘er in my path fer a reason, maybe we need each other. The thought of adoption immediately struck Gavin. It might be a lengthy process, but he did have enough money. He was desperate, so he resolved to give it a try.
“Mr. Lawrence, I appreciate yer willingness and enthusiasm; however, we often look fer a family with two parents in order to provide the maximum care we can fer the child.” Gavin thought for a second as he held the receiver to his ear; then he spoke sincerely.
“I understand, Ms. Anderson, but please try to understand where I’m comin’ from. I have raised a little boy fer six years; I’ve had plenty of experience, an’ he’s done fine without a mother; many children have, including Catie. I’m not sayin’ no one needs a mother, by no means! Mothers provide what fathers can’t. But Catie was also raised by her father—she only had one parent before, so what makes you think she has to have two now?”
“We want the best fer her, Mr. Lawrence.”
“An’ so do I, Ms. Anderson. Please, consider it. Has anyone else volunteered yet?”
“No.”
“Well, what’s wrong with me? I believe we need each other, Ms. Anderson; we understand what each other is feelin’ right now.” Silence.
“Alright, Mr. Lawrence. You will come in tomorrow to sign the paperwork an’ deal with all the legal matters, an’ when yer approved, you can get ‘er within the next couple weeks.” Thank you, God!
“Thank you so much, Ms. Anderson; I’ll be there.”
The day came for Gavin to take Catie home; he had had Dillon’s old bedroom re-decorated and had bought her a couple gifts, and he couldn’t wait to finally be a father again. With much anticipation, Gavin drove to the Adoption Agency building and determinedly walked in the door, where he saw Ms. Anderson first.
“Oh, hello Mr. Lawrence.”
“Where’s Catie?”
“I’ll go get her; just a second please.”
Catie was excited that she would have a new father today. And she was glad it was Gavin, because he reminded her so much of her dad; undoubtedly, he would be a good father like hers was. When she saw Ms. Anderson, she smiled; that meant he was here.
“Let’s go, Catie; Mr. Lawrence is here.” She was a little bit nervous, of course.
Gavin saw a little blonde hair peep around the corner, and there she was. His teary blue eyes met her beautiful green ones, and the little girl slowly approached him, smiling. He knelt down so he could be at eye level with her.
Through his tears of joy he said, “Hi Catie,” and embraced her in his loving arms. Then Catie just looked at him and said, “I’m so glad that you get to adopt me.”
“An’ so am I; I love you, Catie; I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you… y’know what, I think… I think God just brought two desperate people together by His grace—it’s God’s way of restorin’ us.”
“Do you read Bible stories like daddy?”
“Ya… sure I will.” She smiled again.
Ms. Anderson was moved deeply. She loved it when children were brought together with their new parents.
She wiped away a tear and said, “Alright, Mr. Lawrence. You’ll just need to sign these papers an’ then you can take her home.”
It was somewhat of a quiet drive home until Catie said something.
“Is it okay if I call you daddy?”
Gavin briefly glanced at her and responded sweetly, “Of course it’s okay.”
Gavin and Catie Lawrence grew closer as father and daughter throughout the days, weeks, months, and years that passed. I cannot really say they lived happily ever after, because that just wouldn’t fit. They both went through various hardships, as we all do, but they trusted in God to always be faithful just like He had before. Gavin never stopped praying for his father and the rest of his family.
Shortly after the incident, Tommy Bedford talked to Mickey about being a Christian, and he accepted Jesus as his Savior. He ended his gang life and attended a local university, where he received a teaching degree. He got a job at a high school teaching science and art, and as well coaching basketball; he was a godly influence to all the kids there. Tommy also never stopped praying for his brother Billy.
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