Chapter Twenty-Three
That’s okay. I don’t need her. I don’t need anybody. Fritzy had turned her back and walked
on.
Once back
inside the church, Adam yanked the sweeper across the church’s hall floor. The
heavy vacuum cleaner banged into the wall and he winced. Great, that’s all I
need. Scuff marks on the walls.
As he pulled
and pushed his way around the church, the smell of the carpet reminded him to
be thankful for the hard work that morning. It felt good to scrub and dust and
sweep Mr. G’s house. Maybe he could let go of his confused feelings about
Fritzy. After spending the night in jail, maybe he was scouring some of the
dirt of the clink off him. With every elbow bending rub of the cloth on pews
and tables, Adam was getting out more anger and frustration.
“I’m going
downstairs and get you another sweeper bag. Looks like you’ll need one.”
Alfred’s speech was slow and labored.
“I’ll go
down,” Adam offered. “Just tell me where they are. You don’t look like you’re
feeling too good Mr. G.”
“”No, I’m
fine. Just feeling tired today.”
“Please,
I’ll get the bag,” Adam dropped the sweeper and started after the old
gentleman.
“I need for
you to fold up all those extra tables and chairs. Just stack them neatly in the
storeroom. They’re too heavy for me today.”
“But―”
“Now, never
you mind, Adam,” Alfred waved him off as he started down the stairs.
Adam waited
until he heard Mr. G. get to the bottom. There were fourteen steps and he listened,
thirteen . . . fourteen.
Why didn’t I
stop him? He shouldn’t have walked down those stairs. What will happen when he
tries to come back up? I didn’t stop Mr. G. any more than I stopped those boys.
What’s wrong with me?
Adam hurried
into the Honeywell Lounge and grabbed the first table. There were only four extra tables on that floor. They had
been put up for those who couldn’t get down stairs after the Christmas Eve
service. No one would want to miss Holiday cookies and punch. A dozen or so
extra chairs dotted the room. Adam had them down and folded in no time and
hurried back into the foyer.
“You okay
Mr. G?” Adam hollered down the stairs.
“Of course.
Did ya think I would explode from too many Christmas sweets?”
“No Sir.
Just thought I could help.” Adam started down the stairs.
“Now Adam,
quit your fussin'. I need you to put up that large candle stand, with the big
green candle on top, to the right of the altar. Pastor says green represents
new plant life and we have a whole new year ahead of us. Says the symbolism is
his thing, but I like it.”
“Sure, Mr. G. Where are the stand and
candle?”
“In
that tall narrow closet next to the crank for the roll-up door.”
Adam hated
to leave the stairwell. He was afraid Mr. Gunderman would need him and he might
not hear him from the Lounge. But, Mr. G. was his boss and he would follow
through as told. He quickly took the candle and stand from the closet and
placed them exactly where he was told. He stepped back and looked at the
arrangement.
“Sure would
look better placed a little farther forward than this,” Adam mumbled out loud.
“But, I do as I am told.” He took another glance. “I still think―” He stopped
when he heard the door open to the narthex.
“Morning
Adam. Where’s Alfred? He’ll want to hear this.” Pastor Silverman came in
excited, waving a scrap of paper.
“Hi Pastor.”
Adam tried to be friendly but he didn’t feel very amiable.
“That
Smeltzer family makes a mess don’t they,” he noticed the paper and crumbs Adam
was sweeping up.
“I guess
they’re a big family. If you have a hundred cousins and kinfolks, all
unwrapping presents, you’re going to leave some paper around.”
“Well, I’m
not complaining. We’re always pleased when the church is in use. What better
place to celebrate family at Christmas time, than in the church?” Silverman
turned as footsteps approached on the hard wood floor. “There you are Alfred.”
“Pastor,”
Gunderman acknowledged. “Here’s the sweeper bag, Adam.” Alfred’s hand shook as
he handed the bag to Adam.
“Mr. G?”
Adam was worried about the man. Gunderman was out of breath, his hands shook,
and he looked pale.
Pastor
Silverman was too excited to notice. “We have good news and bad news about the
carving of the Christ Child.”
“What?”
Alfred was excited before he even heard the reading of the note. He had caught
Pastor’s enthusiasm and leaned one hand on Adam’s shoulder as if including him
in the good news.
Adam could
feel a different message from the man. He could feel Mr. G’s hand shake through
his flannel shirt.
Pastor Silverman
unfolded the piece of paper with excited hands. “This note was put between the
door and the storm door over at the parsonage. The door bell rang and we heard
the sound of boots as they ran off the porch. We were in the kitchen but heard
the bell and the steps.” He smoothed the paper with his fingers.
“Dear Pastor Silverman, I know the
church likes the statue of Jesus. I will return the carving if $25.00 is placed in an envelope
and left at the foot of the slide in Jefferson Park. No one had better be
around when I pick up the ransom. If the money’s there and no one’s around,
I’ll put the statue in a brown paper bag and leave the sack on the front steps
of the church.”
“A ransom
note?” Adam was shocked. “Who would do such a thing?” Yet, he already knew. He
just could not believe those boys would try to ransom the carving and plan to
sell it too.
“Wait a
minute. Did you say twenty-five dollars?” Alfred turned to Adam. “That’s the
amount you said you needed.” His face grew white and drained. Suddenly, Mr.
Gunderman grabbed his chest and fell over onto Adam.
“No, Mr. G.
No! It wasn’t me—I didn’t—” But Gunderman couldn’t hear him. He had collapsed
on the floor at Adam’s feet.
Shaddi,
save him. Touch his heart and make him well, Adam begged. But all he
heard was the sound of labored breathing.
Adam bent
down and tried to gather the old man in his arms. How could he make him hear?
“Touch him
my Son. I will send him back.” Shaddi whispered in his ear.
I can’t save
him, Shaddi, Adam
cried.
“I didn’t
say you would heal him, Son. I said, touch him and I will send him back.”
Adam knew no
one else heard his Shaddi’s words but he knew he had to obeyed. The boy
frantically touched Alfred’s chest and immediately felt the static shock he had
felt when he touched Buddy. What could touch possibly do?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Pastor Silverman ran into his office, grabbed the phone and
quickly dialed the hospital. “Yes, good,” Adam could hear Pastor’s side of the
conversation. “You have an ambulance at Russell Franklin’s home? How would you
have room? Oh, okay. The church on Cranberry Street.”
“Sounds like
they’re close,” Adam tried to reassure Mr. G. although the old man had not
regained consciousness.
“They’re
close, yes Adam. Russell Franklin fell and his wife called the hospital. When
the ambulance got there, just minutes ago, Russell refused to ride in the
thing. He said, ‘I am not going anywhere laying down. An ambulance is too much
like the last ride I’ll take in a hearse. If I decide to go to the hospital,
and mind you, I have not decided that, my Louise can take me. She can drive ya
know.’”
Adam smiled
faintly as he held Alfred’s head in his lap. Not the curse again—with every
blessing comes a curse.
“Snow’s coming down,” Pastor spoke
mechanically as he watched out the front door windows for the ambulance to
come. Then he walked over and knelt down beside the two, the stricken in body
and the stricken in heart.
Adam looked
up and watched the snow float down in giant clumps. Like a shimmering white
curtain, the icy snow shrouded the reality that he feared and became the
backdrop for a nicer scene. In his mind he stepped out into the deepening snow
but it felt warm. Everywhere he walked, the snow melted and green blades pushed
up from the damp ground. Clover leaves opened all around him, but not just any
three-leaf variety. Everyone of them had four-leaves on the stems and he
smiled. He didn’t speak the name, but he knew—the magic was from Mr.
O’Shaughnessy.
“Alfred, I
am going to assume you can hear me. I know God can.” Pastor prayed for Alfred’s
health, his strength, and his peace. He prayed that God would work his wonders
in Alfred’s life as he went to the hospital to heal.
Adam’s hand
rested on Mr. G’s chest. The boy could feel a warmth increase beneath his hand.
Adam’s fingers floated just a hair’s width above the gruff spoken, dear old
man.
The ambulance slid to a stop out front. The
driver and his attendant rushed in with a stretcher, lifted Alfred onto the
canvas and carried him away. The whole scene was like a dream to Adam.
“Adam, here
are my keys.” Silverman tossed him a large key ring loaded with keys of various
shapes and metals. “Please go back to my office and call Mrs. Gunderman. Tell
her what happened. Then call my wife and let her know that I’m going to ride
with Alfred in the ambulance. Ask her to please bring the car to the hospital
to pick me up. Then, just lock up when you’re done.” Pastor Silverman barked
orders as he ran after the stretcher that carried his friend.
“Okay,” Adam
answered mechanically. His mind was rattled and the impact hit him hard. He looked down at the keys, then his eyes
followed the rescuers all the way out the door.
“I didn’t
take that carving Pastor,” he called after them as they neared the door. Adam
was deeply worried for Mr. Gunderman and afraid for himself. Then he felt guilt
for his self pity.
“Of course
not,” Pastor Silverman turned back to Adam and smiled broadly. “You think I
would give you the keys to my office if I thought you had stolen the carving?”
Again Adam
stared at the ring of keys in his hand. One looked like the key to the pastor’s
car. One was probably the key to the front door of the parsonage. The brass key
he recognized as the one that unlocked the church door. That left the skeleton
key. That has to be the one to the study.
Adam walked
around the corner, unlocked the door, and stepped into a world of books and
leather and spiritual touches that aroused a strange feeling within him. The
room was warm and elegant at the same time. He felt strangely at home. Will
I ever belong in an office like this?
He took the
receiver from the phone’s cradle and hesitated. Then he put the receiver to his
ear and listened.
“Well, I
don’t know Maud,” he heard through the receiver. “You were there when I
reminded Harold that I wanted a blue housecoat for Christmas. He deliberately
bought me a new coffee pot so he could enjoy my gift too.” Party-line
patron number one complained to someone named Maud about her husband’s choice
of Christmas present.
“Oh Shirley,
you don’t think he―”
“Ladies,”
Adam butted in, “I hate to interrupt you but―”
“Well then
don’t, young man,” Shirley ordered. “Hang up and go away. Say, who are you? You
aren’t on our party-line”
What should
he do? He couldn’t convince anyone of anything. Shaddi, give me the gift of
persuasion. Let me be a convincer.
“Please . . . Shirley . . . Ma’am, I
have to use the phone for an emergency,” Adam stammered.
“Mrs.
Bartoni to you.” Then her tone lightened to interest. “What emergency?”
“Yes, Mrs.
Bartoni. I’m sorry. I have to place a phone call.”
“Well of
course, if you have to make an emergency call, it would be a phone call.”
“Mrs.
Bartoni, you sound like a very nice lady.” Adam lied again. She had actually
been very snippy with him. Adam began to think he would die from choking on a
lie some day. “I have to call Mrs. Gunderman to tell her that her husband was
just taken to the hospital.”
“Alfred?”
The Shirley-line-mate questioned.
“Yes,
Ma’am.”
“Get off the
phone Maud so this boy can make an important call. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Thank you
ladies.” When he heard the two lines click and the dial tone hummed in his ear,
he made the hardest call of his life.
“Mrs.
Gunderman, this is Adam.”
“Well hello,
Dear.”
“Mrs.
Gunderman, Mr. G. collapsed here at the church a few minutes ago and was taken
to the hospital.”
“What? The
hospital? Is he alright?”
“I don’t
know how he is Ma’am. They just took him away and the sign on the side of the
ambulance said Middletown Community Hospital. Pastor Silverman was here and
rode along
with him in the ambulance.”
“Oh thank
the Lord. And, thank you, Adam. I will go right over. You’ll say a prayer for
Al, won’t you?”
“Of course,”
was his answer but inside his thoughts were different. As he dialed the
Silverman home, he thought, Prayer? I don’t know how to pray. God, just help
Mr. G. please. Amen.
“Young man, you said you were just
calling Arletta Gunderman,” Shirley Bartoni scolded as Adam dialed again.
“Mrs.
Bartoni? Where you listening in?”
“Indeed I
was not? I just picked up the phone and heard you dial again.”
“How did you
know that wasn’t my first call?”
“Never mind
that,” she protested.
“Hello?”
Mrs. Silverman answered.
“This is
Adam Shoemaker . . . and Mrs. Bartoni is just hanging up,” Adam announced more
boldly.
“Well, I
never!” Shirley Bartoni announced with disgust and embarrassment.
I doubt
you never. Adam was wise enough to think it but not say it out loud.
“Pastor Silverman asked me to call you. Mr. Gunderman collapsed and was taken
to the hospital by ambulance. Pastor went along to stay with him until his wife
gets there. Pastor would like for you to pick him up there at the Middletown
Hospital.”
“Yes, Adam,
of course. Thank you so much. What would we do without you?”
What
would you do without me? I haven’t heard that kind of talk in a long time. “I
still
have Pastor’s keys. Do you want me to bring them over before
you leave?”
“No, that’s all
right. He can get them tomorrow. I know they are safe with you,” Mrs. Silverman
answered, then hung up.
I know I
can trust you, Adam rehearsed as he tried to bury the thought in his heart
where the shadows couldn’t add doubt again. What would we do without you,
Adam? I can trust you.
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