Segment Eighteen - Escape from the Belfry Copyright 2013 Doris Gaines Rapp

(The format looks difference because it is copied from the "Second Edition" of Escape from the Belfry - now available on Amazon)

Chapter 33

  

Finding Surprise Blessings 

“Get your coat, Adam.” Pastor Silverman came into his kitchen a half hour later. He grabbed his car keys off the counter as the boy finished a bowl of corn flakes.

            “Sir?”

            “I made a few phone calls while you dressed and ate. I’m taking you out to the sanitarium to pick up your mother. I’m supposed to move you two into Gunderman’s guest space today like you and Mrs. G. talked about.” Pastor put his arm through the sleeve of his coat, flipped the toaster side up, and popped the corner of the dry bread in his mouth.

            “What?” Adam was stunned.

            “I hope I haven’t over stepped my bounds, Adam, but you said your mother could come home when the house was ready for her. I talked to her on the telephone and asked if she would like to stay at the Gundermans’ until summer break, along with you of course.” Silverman looked the boy up and down. Adam had said nothing.

            “What did she say?” Adam was cautious. He had lived the fabrication for so long, he had made lies his new reality. Would he be able to meet the day with the truth?

            “I explained the guest space and the small amount of money, and she said she would love to move in. Gundermans would help her and she would help them. She said she knows Mrs. Gunderman a little, and she thinks you could help Mr. Gunderman in the yard and around the place.”

            “So, she can finally get out of that place?”

            “Like I said, Adam, get your coat. We’re going out to pick her up.”

            The ride to the sanitarium was a blur of color and buildings. Soon they came to open fields that slept under a blanket of white. Winter wheat was visible in some fields not completely covered with snow. Adam was happy to see the green that peppered the ground again.

            “The sanitarium is just up here,” Adam pointed, “around the next bend. Trust me, I have walked this road so many times, I’ve named all of the trees.”

            The red brick building was old. “The whole place looks sterile.” Young Schumacher studied the structure from the basement window wells to the attic roof.

            Adam had mixed emotions about the place. On the one hand, he sure missed Moms and had been feeling desperately alone, cold, sad, and defeated. For all of that, he hated the West Slope Tuberculosis Hospital. Yet, he knew he had to be grateful to the sanitarium for making Moms well again.

            Pastor pulled his car to a stop in the circular drive just outside the entrance. They got out and Adam approached the front door a few steps ahead of the pastor. He didn’t like the looks of the place. He hurried past the facade and went quickly inside where the Christmas decorations made the interior a little more cheery. Adam had just been there two days before, but he was much too cold and wet on Christmas Day to appreciate the entrance except for the warmth. Was Christmas just Tuesday past? How could that be possible? Time usually flew by, but recent days were in slow motion.

            “I will be so glad when Moms gets out of here.”

            “Yes, I am sure you will be, but you’ll have to admit, this facility was a blessing to your mother. The hospital was here when she became sick and was in need of nursing care.”

            “This pile of bricks and stone?” Adam couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The sanitarium—a blessing? How?

            “Blessings come in different sizes and packages. Miracles are recognized with the heart not the eyes, Son.”

             “How in the world could this place be anything except―” Adam stepped aside and allowed the pastor to enter the Sanitarium Director’s office.

            “Good morning, Mr. Fairfield,” Adam greeted the man with more maturity than most fifteen-year-olds. “This is Pastor Silverman from the church on Cranberry Street.” Adam heard himself mocking the director in his head. Then, he realized that the man had nothing but nice things to say to him. Ridicule and negative self-talk did no one any good.

            The two men shook hands. “I’m happy to finally meet you, Sir,” the director smiled. “I was glad to talk to you on the telephone and make these arrangements for the Shoemaker family. Bridget Shoemaker is a brave and wonderful woman.”

            “Schumacher, Sir. Our name is Schumacher.” Adam spoke firmly and assuredly. He had been confused about many things in the last months, but of that fact he was sure.

            “Yes, Son, thank you.” Fairfield smiled. “All is ready for your mother’s transfer to the Gundermans’ place. Mr. and Mrs. Gunderman tell me that you and your mother will have a separate entrance, a nice completely outfitted bathroom, a good sized bedroom, and living room, complete with furniture and radio. I believe, Son, you will sleep on the couch. Is that all right with you?”

            Adam was stunned. “Is it all right? If the ceiling rafters are enclosed; if there is running water with a bathroom, heat and electricity and a finished floor, it is more than all right. The place is a castle.”

            Adam stopped and thought of all his blessings. Maybe he had been missing miracles.  “That sounds just fine to me. In fact, the couch sounds great.” Adam continued to study the two men.

            Adam had more questions than he had answers. Why on earth would anyone do anything so nice for Moms and me? Life isn’t usually like that. Besides, I still have a lot of luggage. Wherever I live, there has to be room for a funny little basket purse and small bird.

            “The arrangement is fair. You and your mother would live there in exchange for her being on the property when Mrs. Gunderman is at work. You will shovel snow now in the winter and mow the grass in the spring. Are you sure that is all okay with you? You play a part in making this work, Young Man.”

            “I am happy to be able to help get a safe place for Moms.” Adam felt a few inches taller. “Yep, it is very okay with me.”

            Adam was stunned beyond words to express. He was actually helping his mother to have advantages she had not had before. There was nothing but hard work on the farm and in the clan in which she had grown up. The gypsy ways were primitive. At the same time, he would be helping himself escape from the belfry.

            “Then, if you will excuse me, I will go get your mother and help her with her

belongings.”

            As soon as the director was out of the office, Adam’s attention snapped back to Silverman. “It all sounds great, Pastor, but how in the world can this place be a blessing or a miracle like you said?”

            “Your mother is alive, isn’t she, Adam? She’s coming home today, is she not? She is a well woman. She just has to regain her strength and try not to catch a cold. Isn’t that a miracle? Her treatment happened here. Here in 1945, fifty percent of people, who do not receive treatment for tuberculosis, die.”

• • •

Adam was excited about the little apartment behind Mr. and Mrs. Gunderman’s house. “Isn’t the place wonderful, Moms?” He was proud. Finally, he was able to take care of Moms through his hard work and new friends.

            “It is so good to see you again, Bridget.” Arletta greeted her old friend with open arms. “You haven’t been to club in years.”

            “There’s always something that has to be done on the farm, Arletta. But, it is so very good to see you today.”

            “This is great,” Adam whispered in amazement. The apartment was everything Alfred and Arletta had described, and more. “The furniture all looks new,” Adam observed out loud and then wished he hadn’t. He didn’t want to sound ungrateful.

            “Mother Gunderman only lived a few months after we moved her in here,” Arletta smiled. “We bought everything new for her, and she purchased a lot too, like new pots and pans and decorations.” Mrs. G. seemed proud as she showed Adam and his mother around their home.

            “Did she die here?” Again, Adam couldn’t believe his thoughts were not kept to himself.

For a man of few words, all of the wrong ones were tumbling out of the back of his mind.

            “Adam!” Moms gave a little smack to her son’s shoulder and looked down, away from Mrs. G.

            “Now that is an honest concern.” The corners of Mrs. G.’s mouth gave away her stifled laugh. “No, Adam. As a matter of fact, Mother Gunderman came into our house and tried to get a book from a high shelf there in our living room, and fell. Her hip broke when she landed on the floor and she had to go to the hospital. Like some older people, her hip healed, but the rest of her body just finally gave out.”

            “I’m sorry.” Adam cringed inside. What are you, Schumacher, a four-year-old?

            “I like the question though. It shows me you’re thinking.” Arletta smiled and looked around. “I forgot the extra coffee pot, Bridget. Let me run into the house and get it.”

            “Certainly,” Moms smiled and took in everything in the little apartment.

“Adam, this is wonderful!” She hugged her son with all the strength she was gaining. “This has all come about because of your hard work. I am so proud of you.”

            “Thanks, Moms, but we won’t be a real family until Pops comes home.” Adam tried to keep a happy face while thoughts of Pops’ absence tried to spoil their blessing.

            “Adam—maybe Pops can’t come home. Even if that’s true, we are still a family.”

            “Moms, what’s wrong with me? I’ve been so excited about your hospital release, I haven’t told you yet. Pastor Silverman said a man came by trying to find Pops’ family. The man had been all over Middletown looking for us. I saw him a couple of times, but I didn’t know who he was and didn’t trust him. Pastor said the man told him he thinks Pops is alive but has lost his memory.”

            Adam led his mother over to the sofa. “You have to hear this while sitting down,” he said as he helped her onto the sofa.

“Moms, Pops doesn’t know anyone or even his own name. Someone saw him in a VA hospital here in the Eastern part of United States. His dog tags were missing, and he couldn’t be officially identified until an Army buddy thought he recognized him.”

            “Adam, how can that be?” Bridget put her hands over her face, then whispered again, “How can that be, Adam?”

            “I don’t know, but I met the man, Moms. He seemed to show up everywhere. When he couldn’t talk to me or you, he looked up Pastor Silverman. He said his name is Sergeant Smith. He gave Pastor these.” Adam held out the prize to his mother.

            “Your daddy’s dog tags?” Bridget Schumacher took the small tags on the metal beaded chain and clutched them to her chest. “Do you think―? Could your daddy have been alive all this time, sick and lost inside his mind?”

            “Yes, Moms, I do. I think Pops is still alive. I will be sixteen in April and I can get my driver’s license. This spring, I’m going to go find Pops. Sergeant Smith said Pops had been released from a POW camp and was taken to a hospital. That hospital is here in the states. I’ll keep driving until I find him. I’ll look up that Sergeant and he’ll lead me to Pops. I know he will.”

            “But, Adam, the money for gas? Where will you get money for food and gas and shelter?”

            “Shelter is no problem. I’ve learned I don’t need a bed to sleep in. I’ll save some of the money from my job at the church to get me started. I can work my way from town to town. If hummingbirds can fly south, I can drive east.”

Segment Seventeen - Escape from the Belfry Copyright 2013 Doris Gaines Rapp

(My assistant accidentally uploaded the last few posts from a pre-edited manuscript. I'll post corrections soon. Enjoy this correct entry. Happy reading!)

Chapter 32

New Year’s Eve

Monday, December 31, 1945

Adam woke up the next morning in the Silvermans’ guest room. He shook his head and tried to clear his thinking. The events of the previous day gathered around the edges of his mind.

            “Adam?” Pastor Silverman tapped on the bedroom door.

            “Yeah?”

            “May I come in?”

            “Sure.” Adam pulled the covers over him again, sat up and leaned on his elbow.

            “A couple of people have been by to see you this morning.”

            “How did they know where to find me?”

            “Actually, Frederica Breman stopped. She said you two had seen each other yesterday. I guess she also knew you had been living in the church’s bell tower.”

            “Yeah, I guess. I’m that crazy boy that lives with the bats in the belfry.”

            “Speaking of bats in the belfry, you know what I found over there this morning? I hope you don’t mind. I had gone up the ladder to get your school books, clothing and stuff. Look what I found.”

            Pastor Silverman reached around into the hallway and brought in B.B. Brumble’s basket-purse turned birdcage. The basket was covered with a white cloth.

            Adam’s breath caught in his throat. Many things tumbled through his mind and B.B.’s basket was another wad to choke on. The little hummer was gone. He didn’t realize until that moment how much the little ruby throated hummingbird meant to him.

            “So you found the basket?” Adam was sure. Once he was found with the silly purse, no one would believe or trust him.

            “That’s right. I found it,” Pastor said.

            “Pastor Silverman―”

            “This is the most appropriate use of B.B.’s bag I can think of.”

            “It’s okay that I had the purse?” Adam was confused. If everything was all right, then why did the pastor confront him with the bag now?

            “Okay? Of course, Adam. The basket-purse was there for the taking.” He pulled one of Mrs. Silverman’s card-table cloth covers from the top of the cage. There in the center of the basket was the little hummingbird.

            Adam leaped from the bed and grabbed the cage. “How did he survive? How is this possible? I thought the little guy was either gone or dead.”

            He pulled the cage close to his face and studied the bird from every angle. Great tears of joy and other feelings he had stuffed away to deal with another time, rolled down Adam’s cheeks. He looked over the bright red throat and the little green feathers and saw how proud the bird looked.

            The hummer appeared to be healthy and strong. Suddenly, he began chirping his long, “Look at me, aren’t I great” song.

            “He’s showing off,” Adam grinned. “He is amazing.” He looked again at the little bird. “I’m shocked, Pastor?” He hitched up the basketball sweats he had used as pajamas bottoms, took the birdcage and sat down on the edge of the bed. He couldn’t take his eyes off his only roommate, as small and amazing as the hummer was.

            “How could any of these things happen? Adam, I don’t know. I’m not the author of any of this. I just know there are so many little miracles that gather around us each day; we would trip over them if we saw them all. Most of us see only a few in a lifetime.”

            “And some of us miss them all,” Adam admitted. How many miracles in his life had he missed?

“You said Fritzy was here?”

            “She left a card she had made. Trust me. I didn’t look at the message. She said she had made the card last evening. She wanted you to have it right away. I guess you two have a date for the New Year’s Party. She also said to remind you that you had promised.” The pastor waited for Adam to reply.

            “Oh, and here is her card,” Pastor offered.

            Adam took the envelope and withdrew the handmade card. There were two verses with a hand drawn cover, just like a card from Woolworth’s. The cover had a watercolor painting of a ruby throated hummingbird, signed by Fritzy. Inside, the words sounded like they had been written just for him. He thought about all that had happened to him recently. He saw the path he had walked written within the ten lines of Fritzy’s poem.

God bless you with–

Truth to speak

The home you seek

Grace for living

A cause for giving.

For This New Year:

I wish you peace to share

Those who care

A song to sing

And hummingbirds in the spring.

            Adam brushed a tear away with the back of his hand. “I wasn’t sure I would be able to take her to the party. I don’t have any money. I lost my billfold on my way back from Mr. and Mrs. Breman’s house.”

            “Now, that is another thing. A man stopped by and asked if I knew where the Schumacher family lived. I said I had just met Adam Schumacher Saturday evening.” Pastor paused to let Adam have time to remember the miracle of that night in the church.

            “Did you tell him?” Adam’s muscles trembled again as he prepared for another flight.

            “Well, yes,” Pastor said. “Isn’t that okay, Adam? He had been driving slowly along the streets he had seen you on before. About a block and a half from here, he spotted your wallet on a small stretch of sidewalk that had been cleared of snow. He gave it to me.”

            “I have met him. I don’t know who he is. Do you know where he is now?”

            “He said he had to get home. He had taken a few days out of his Christmas vacation already, trying to find the Schumacher family. But, he had to go back home. He needed to be with his family for a few days before his children went back to school after Christmas vacation.”

            “What did he want—besides giving back the billfold? I saw him around town long before he found my wallet.”

            “He had a message for you and your mother. That’s all he wanted. He claimed he shouldn’t give the information to anyone but the Schumacher family. He said that someone had told him that a man, believed to be your father, William Schumacher, had been found in an Army hospital. He said the source was reliable. Your father has evidently been there since a Prisoner of War camp was liberated at the end of the war. The man, your father, doesn’t remember his own name, but a patient in the same ward, said he thought he recognized him. No one would believe the other patient because he had memory lapses too. Sergeant Smith said your dad had no identification on him and the VA wouldn’t notify you or your mom without proper I.D. They wouldn’t want to make a mistake. The man, thought to be your dad, was thin and ill but getting stronger. The war buddy of mine said he had picked these up off the battlefield at the Battle of the Bulge. They were found near where your father had been when the enemy dragged him away. Sergeant Smith wanted you and your mother to have them.”

            Pastor Silverman reached in his pocket and pulled something out. He took the bird from Adam and put the cage on a table in front of a window.

            “This is for you and your mom,” he said as he dropped Will Schumacher’s Army dog-tags into Adam’s hand.

            “Oh no! The man in the blue car had these all along? Where is he? Where’s Pops?”

            “Sergeant Smith left his name, address and phone number. He said he would like you and your mom to write to him. He can make arrangements for you two to meet the man believed to be William Schumacher.” The pastor handed the card with the contact information to a stunned young man, the newly renamed Adam Schumacher.

            I will go with you, My Son. I’ll help you find your father, Shaddy blew into Adam’s ear with certainty.

            “I will find him. I know I will find Pops as soon as spring comes. Thank you, Reverend.” Adam grabbed the pastor and held onto the dog-tags. They were the only reality he had known in months. They were not a fantasy. They were a truth about Pops he could live with.

            “I did nothing, Son. You should thank God.” Pastor patted the boy’s shoulders then added. “I saw no suit among your clothes in the belfry. You’re going to need one for the party.”

            “But―”

            “Sounds to me like you promised Fritzy Breman you would take her to the party, and she is an awful nice girl to back out on your promise.” He didn’t give Adam a chance to protest but continued, “I have a suit hanging in the back of my closet that I have not worn in years. I guess I kept the suit of clothes to remind me of how slim I was at one time. My wife can take in the pants a little for you.”

            Could it be? Had I actually witnessed a miracle and almost didn’t see it? He looked at the hummer and the wallet and the dog tags and wondered how much more proof he would need?

Segment Sixteen - Escape from the Belfry Copyright 2013 Doris Gaines Rapp

Chapter Thirty

Adam had gone back into the church, hungry and tired. Mrs. Gunderman had sent four peanut butter sandwiches, spread on one side with her own strawberry preserves. Mr. G. had suggested the food, but didn’t tell his wife that Adam would have little to eat since the holidays were nearly over and all the special meals and treats that are part of the celebration would be over too. Only the New Years Eve party was left and that was days away. There would be the usual cookies and punch on Sunday after church. He would have had the four dollars Mrs. G had paid him for the work he had done in the yard, but his wallet was missing. The leather billfold had to be in the belfry but he couldn’t find it. How was that possible? He certainly didn’t have a lot of dresser drawers to lose his stuff in. He had started working at the church and would receive his first paycheck soon. Then there was the five dollars a week Moms would earn to keep an eye on Mr. G. For that moment, however, he had no money.

            Adam’s legs felt heavy as he trudged through the empty, dark church. He could hear the sleet and wind pick up outside and was glad he wasn’t on the streets. But, he wasn’t home either. He hadn’t been home in months.

            Out of habit, he started up the ladder to the bell tower and pushed the door open. Ice peppered the small window like a sand storm. Adam shivered. He didn’t know if he was too hungry or too tired to hold any heat in his body, but he was cold. The thought of laying sick and alone in the dark bell tower, like a hobo crouched down in a door way or along a railroad track crowded into his thoughts. That made his body chill more violently. He looked around his wretched garret. With no light at that hour of the evening, he couldn’t see if the little hummingbird had come back.

            He dragged his blanket and pillow back down the ladder. “Mr. G. knows I’m living here,” he spoke out loud to the rough beams and bare floor. “I might as well get warm tonight, before they find me frozen stiff some day.”

            He pulled the bedding into the youth room where a couch and some overstuffed chairs made a cozy place for the high school kids to meet. Adam spread the blanket on the sofa and threw himself onto his new bed. He could have turned on the light, but he had gotten used to the darkness. With no light, he didn’t have to see how alone he was.

            Why has God forgotten all about me? He thought the same thoughts that had no answers. Why has he left me utterly alone?

            He looked at the sandwiches on the side table and broke off a corner. “Not bad,” he whispered to the wind. Then his eye caught sight of something that had been there all along. An upright Philco radio stood on the floor across the room. Could it be? Would he actually hear another’s voice as he lay on the couch with Mrs. Simington’s quilt pulled over him?

            Adam pushed one of the station selection buttons on the Philco, then curled up on the sofa.  He broke off another piece of sandwich and closed his eyes. A singer was just finishing a song from a recent movie, The Picture of Dorian Gray.

            “Goodbye, little yellow bird,” the song began. Adam sat up and listened. “It finished with the words, “in a cage of gold.”

            Birdcage. The word leaped in Adam’s mind and would not let go. He got up, went into the church kitchen and prepared a fresh saucer of sugar water. He took the dish back up the ladder but didn’t even go to the top. The belfry was cold and dreary. He simply scooted the plate across the floor from the opening.

            “Little Hummer, you may leave me, Pops may desert me, Fritzy may turn on me, but, Bright One, I will not abandon you.”

■  ■  ■

             

            “What is that?” Adam spoke into the darkness of the night. If he had been in the bell tower, he would not have heard the sound. In the Senior High Sunday School room, every creak grated on his ears like George Hanson’s first violin solo in the high school Assembly Hall.

            Probably nothing,this time he did not speak out loud. He turned over and pulled the pillow over his ears.

            Bang!

            What the . . .? That is not nothing. That is something. He sat up and listened to the blackness all around him. Thud. Someone else is in this church.

            Adam slowly lowered one sock-covered foot to the floor. I cannot just lay here and wait

for someone to bash me in the head. Thoughts raced through his mind he had never thought of

before. What would happen to Moms if Pops and I were both gone? Pops, where are you?

            Adam was angry, confused, and scared all at the same time. As one emotion rolled and crashed into another, his stomach churned and boiled and fell with them. How can I do this?

He sat down on his couch-bed. Maybe the intruder won’t hear me if I’m really quiet. Maybe it’s those two idiots who took the carving in the first place.

            Adam realized he was holding his breath and exhaled. There was a closet across the room from his bed. He could hide in there, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that. Hide again? Not this time.

            He cautiously got up and crossed the room with silent steps. Then he thought of Good King Wenceslas and laughed bitterly. There was no heat in the floor he walked on. There were no footprints to walk in. There was no pillar of light by night or cloud of dust by day. There was silence. There was nobody. There was nothing.

            Then I have nothing to lose. A stream of light cast a plumb line on the floor through the slightly opened door that led into the hallway. If he opened the door, he would no longer be able to hide in the shadows. I have been hiding in the dark for months now. I know I will be exposed out there, but I don’t care. He knew that the thought of exposure had two meanings but that was okay with him.

            If the tiny hummingbird can endure a long flight across the gulf, I can walk out that door. Mr. G. had said, “Adam, you can endure what you are dealt.”

            The boy followed the light and pushed gently. Maybe this is my pillar. He held his breath until he thought his lungs would explode. The door hinges might squawk and announce his presence. That could not happen.

            Silence Shaddi, silence.

            “Silence and peace my son.”

            He pulled on the doorknob and waited for a sound. There was nothing. He stepped into the Honeywell Lounge and looked around. The large room was not totally dark. The street-lamp  flooded the floor across to the crank-up door. He could see no one. Silently, like kittens’ paws on the kitchen linoleum, he crept closer to the sanctuary.

            His eyes took a while to adjust to the lesser light. He slowly made his way to the altar area where the creche still stood. The scene had announced a miraculous birth that Adam had not truly celebrated. He expected to see the doll from the nursery that Fritzy had wrapped and placed in the manger on Christmas Eve.

            “Isn’t he beautiful?” Pastor Silverman suggested. “Come closer Adam.”

            “No thank you,” Adam cringed from the scene.

            “The child is for you too, Adam. Come.”

            Adam crawled near the scene of love on the knees of his heart. There, in the straw lay the  exquisite wood carving, with a patina of chestnut gold. Two chubby arms reached dimpled hands to the boy who stood over the place where the Baby Jesus lay. That was his first sight of the Christ Child carving. He hadn’t even opened the bag when he returned duffel.

            Pastor Silverman spoke softly. “A long time ago Adam, Alfred Gunderman helped an angry, disbelieving young boy to trust. Mr. G. vowed to stand with the boy. Now look, our carving has returned.”

            Adam could not take his eyes from the Christ Child in the manger reaching out to him.

He touched the small hand of the babe who represented all the love in the world. Tears rolled

down his cheeks.

            “I know. I know Adam. I’ve been there. Adam Shoemaker’s name is written on God’s  heart from this moment on.”

            “Schumacher, Pastor. Make sure God spells it right. My name is Adam Schumacher.”

            

Chapter Thirty-One

Adam woke up the next morning in the Silverman’s guest room. He shook his head and tried to clear his thinking.

            Where am I? He questioned momentarily while the events of the previous day gathered around the edges of his mind. 

            “Adam?” Pastor Silverman tapped on the bedroom door.

            “Yeah?”

            “May I come in?”

            “Sure.” Adam pulled the covers over him again, sat up and leaned on his elbow.

            “A couple of people have been by to see you this morning.”

            “How did they know where to find me?”

            “Actually, Frederica Breman stopped by to see if I knew where you were. I guess she knew you had been living in the church’s bell tower.”

            “Yeah, I guess. I’m that crazy boy that lives with the bats in the belfry.”

            “Speaking of bats in the belfry, you know what I found over there this morning. I hope you don’t mind. I had gone up the ladder to get your school books, clothing and stuff. Look what I found.”

            Pastor Silverman reached around into the hallway and brought in B.B. Brumble’s basket-purse turned birdcage. The basket was covered with a white cloth with embroidered corners.

            Adam’s breath caught in his throat. So many things tumbled through his mind like a quarterback tackled by the full opposing line. B.B.’s basket was another jab in the gut. The little hummer was gone. He didn’t realize until that moment how much the little ruby-throated hummingbird meant to him.

            “So you found the basket?” Adam was sure, once he was found with the silly purse, no one would believe him or trust him now.

            “That’s right. I found it.”

            “Pastor Silverman―”

            “This is the most appropriate use of B.B.’s bag I can think of.”

            “It’s okay that I had the purse?” Adam was confused. If everything was all right, then why was the pastor confronting him with the bag now?

            “Okay? Of course Adam. The basket-purse was there for the taking.” He pulled one of Mrs. Silverman’s card-table cloths from the top of the cage. There in the center of the basket was the little hummingbird, hopping and fluttering in his space.

            Adam leaped from the bed and grabbed the cage. “How did he survive? How is this possible? I thought the little guy was either gone or dead.”

            He pulled the cage close to his face and studied the bird from every angle. Great tears of joy, and other feelings he had stuffed away to deal with another time, rolled down Adam’s cheeks. He looked over the bright red throat of the little green feathers and saw how proud the bird looked.

            The hummer appeared to be healthy and strong. Suddenly, he began chirping his long, ‘Look at me, aren’t I great’ song.

            “He’s showing off,” Adam grinned. “He is amazing.” He looked again at the little bird. “I am shocked, Pastor?” He took the birdcage and sat down on the edge of the bed. He couldn’t take his eyes off his only roommate, as small and amazing as the hummer was.

            “How could any of these things happen? Adam, I don’t know. I’m not the author of any  of this. I just know, there are so many little miracles that gather around us each day, we would trip over them if we saw them all. Most of us see only a few in a lifetime.”

            “And some of us miss them all,” Adam admitted. How many chances to see miracles in his life had he missed? “You said Fritzy was here?”

            “She left you a card she made. Trust me, I didn’t look at the message. She said she had wanted to give the card to you but hadn’t and that things had changed recently. She still wanted you to have it because, she said that you two have a date for the New Year’s Eve Party. She said to remind you that you had promised.” The pastor waited for Adam to reply. The response had to be his.

            “Oh and here is her card,” Pastor offered.

            Adam took the envelope and withdrew the handmade card Fritzy had written for him.

There were two verses with a hand drawn cover, just like a card from Woolworth’s. The cover had a watercolor painting of a ruby throated hummingbird, signed by Fritzy. Inside, the words sound like that had been written just for him. He thought about all that had happened to him recently. He saw the path he had walked written within the ten lines of Fritzy’s poem.

God bless you with–

Truth to speak

The home you seek

Grace for living

A cause for giving.

For This New Year:

I wish you peace to share

Those who care

A song to sing

And hummingbirds in the Spring.

            Adam brushed tears away with the back of his hand. “I didn’t think I would be able to take

her to the party. I don’t have any money. I lost my billfold on my way back from Gundermans’ house.”

            “Now, that is another thing. A man stopped by and asked if I knew where the Schumacher family lived. I said I had just met Adam Schumacher last evening.” Pastor paused to let Adam have time to remember the miracle of the night before.

            “Did you tell him?” Adam’s muscles trembled again as he prepared for another flight.

            “Well, yes.” He studied the boy for a moment. “Isn’t that okay, Adam? He found your wallet and gave it to me.”                                             

            “I have met him. I don’t know who he is. Do you know where is he now?”

            “He said he had to get home. He had taken a few days out of his Christmas vacation

already, trying to find the Schumacher family. But, he had to go back home. He needed to be

with his family for a few days before his children went back to school.”

            “What did he want—besides giving back the billfold? I saw him around long before he found my wallet. ”

            “He had a message for you and your mother. That’s all he wanted. He said he shouldn’t give the information to anyone but the Schumacher family. He claimed there were rules. One is just a privacy restriction. But, the other is the respect he has for the family. He said that someone had told him that a man, believed to be your father, William Schumacher, had been found in an Army hospital. He said the source was reliable. Your father has evidently been there since a Prisoner of War camp was liberated at the end of the war. The man, your father, doesn’t remember his own name, but a patient in the same ward, said he recognized him. Sargent Smith said they didn’t know who he was because he also had no identification on him. He was thin and ill but getting stronger. The war buddy was positive the fellow was him and said he had picked these up off the battlefield when they were pulled from your father’s neck when the enemy drug him away. Sargent Smith wanted you and your mother to have them.”

            Pastor Silverman reached in his pocket and pulled something out. He took the bird from Adam and put the cage on a table in front of a window.

            “This is for you and your mom,” he said as he dropped Will Schumacher’s Army dog-tags into Adam’s hand.

            “Oh no! The man in the blue car had these all along? Where is he? Where’s Pops?”

            “The Sargent left his name, address and phone number. He said he would like you and your mom to write to him. He can make arrangements for you two to meet the man believed to be William Schumacher.” The pastor handed the card with the contact information to a stunned

young man, the newly renamed Adam Schumacher.

            I will go with you, My Son. I’ll help you find your father, Shaddi blew into Adam’s ear with certainty.

            “I will find him. I know I will find Pops as soon as Spring comes. Thank you, Reverend,” Adam grabbed the pastor and held onto the dog-tags. They were the only reality he had known in months. They were not a fantasy. They were a truth about Pops he could live with.

            “I did nothing Son. You thank God.” Pastor patted the boy’s shoulders then added. “I saw no suit among your clothes in the belfry. You are going to need one for the party.”

            “But―”

            “Sounds to me like you promised Fritzy Breman you would take her to the party and she is an awful nice girl to back out on your promise.” He didn’t give Adam a chance to protest but continued, “I have a suit hanging in the back of the closet that I have not warn in years. I guess I kept the suit of clothes to remind me of how slim I was at one time. My wife can take in the pants a little for you.”

            Could it be? Had I actually witnessed a miracle and almost didn’t see it? He looked at the hummer and the wallet and the dog tags and wondered how much more proof he would need?

Sequel, Escape from the Shadows, is available on amazon.com and b&n.com.  If you remember snail-mail, for a better price, check out offer at                                                www.dorisgainesrapp.com.

Segment Fifteen - Escape from the Belfry Copyright 2013 Doris Gaines Rapp

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Adam woke up the next morning in the belfry tired but determined. He had to do it. He had tossed and argued with himself all night. Now, his mind was made up! He was the only one who could, since he was the only one who had seen the boys take the carving. But, how would he accomplish it? Daylight would break soon. There would be no shadows of night he could hide in this time and the shadows of day were always near by. 

            When Mr. Gunderman picked him up at the police station the day after Christmas and took him back to the church, they had passed through a section of town Adam had rarely been in. That area of town was a nice, new neighborhood where good people lived in comfortable homes on friendly streets. He could find nothing wrong with the surroundings although they were much better than his. But then, anything would be better than a cold belfry.

            Adam certainly couldn’t say anything to Mr. G. at the time he was driven back from the police station. But, Adam had seen them. As he and Alfred passed, he had seen Freddy trudge across the snow in his front lawn and into the yard next door where Buddy, the leader of the little band of thieves, apparently lived. Slumped down in the car seat, where he could watch without being seen, Adam saw Buddy open the garage door. The two boys stood for a moment and jabbed at each other, then Buddy poked around in the garage, under what appeared to be a work bench. Adam saw them pull out and open the same duffle he had seen them shove the carving into at the church. The bag was 12 inches square on the bottom and 33 inches tall with USN stamped on the front. Neither of the young felons looked very happy about their initiation into their new career as thieves. They took out their anger on each other as the punched and jabbed. Adam didn’t care what they did to each other. He had discovered where they lived and that’s what he needed to know.

            Now what do I do? He paced around the belfry. He couldn’t just walk up to their front door and say he was there to pick up the carving of the Christ Child that had been stolen. For one thing, he didn’t know how dangerous the boys could be. He had seen them around school. They were always dressed well but seemed to have few friends. They stuck together and included no one else in their duo. They poked each other and argued every time Adam saw them, even in the church balcony on Christmas Eve.

            Adam stalled around all morning as he tried to decide what to do. He was not a thief.  Therefore, he could not bring himself to think like a thief. How could he take something that wasn’t his, even though it was already stolen material?

            It was now nearly three in the afternoon and he wanted that Christ Child back where it belonged, in the manger, before Mrs. Gunderman brought Alfred to the church. Mr. G. had insisted that he would need to check on everything to make sure all would be ready for Sunday’s service. Adam had cleaned in the morning but he was only pushing a dust cloth around. Everything was spotless already. He only had a few hours to do something about the Christ Child carving. But what?

If they’re out of the house . . . maybe. But good ol’ Buddy Boy and Freddy wouldn’t be

doing anything productive. They never did. Adam could not imagine the pair would begin a life of virtue today. They were probably laying around doing nothing.

            Shaddi, tell me what to do. As quickly as he asked, a full scene came to him but to step into that reality, he would have to go where he didn’t want to go. First, he had to walk over to Fritzy’s house, not to see her, but to talk to Coach Breman. Adam believed that he couldn’t just show up at Fritzy’s house to talk to her. But, if he happened to see Frederica while he was there talking to her father, that would be okay. He thought he was ready.

            When Adam got to the Breman’s house he hesitated before stepping onto the porch. What would he say if Fritzy came to the door? He hadn’t rehearsed that because he had no idea what words would be believable.

            “Adam, come in Son,” Coach smiled his usual generous greeting.

            “I had better not, Sir. I have a lot of snow on my shoes. I just stopped by to check on a job I heard about. They need people to help get ready for the party Monday night.”

            “Well now, Adam, I thought Fritzy and Alfred have been keeping you very busy lately.”

            “Yes, Sir, she is . . . they are . . . we are . . . we were.” He studied the tips of his clodhoppers and watched the snow drip small dirty puddles on the Breman’s front porch and was glad he had not gone in.

            “Let me start over.” Adam cleared his throat and looked Coach Breman in the eye. “I heard that they need a couple of people to set up tables and chairs over at the gym and prepare the room before the New Years Eve Party on Monday night.”

            “Yes, that’s right.”

            “Well, I know two guys who I don’t think are going to the party. I hadn’t heard them

talk about it. They might be interested in setting things up, especially if they could earn a few dollars. I don’t have their phone numbers but the one is Buddy Phillips and the other is his neighbor, Freddy something.”

            “Yes, Freddy Alexander lives next door to Buddy. You think they might be interested? Are you a friend of theirs?”

            “No Sir. I can’t vouch for them but I happen to see them in church on Christmas Eve and I thought you might know them or their families. Do you think you could call them? I would be happy to wait right here on the porch while you call. That way, if they can’t or don’t want to, I might be able to think of a couple other guys. I know there’s not much time and everyone has been great about getting the party all put together.”

            “Well that sounds fine but you must step in. If you stand on the entry mat, the floor will be just fine.” Coach Breman stepped back so Adam could come in, then he went to the phone on the front hall table near the stairs. He took a phone book from the drawer in the phone table and read aloud.

            “Here it is. Phillips on Maplecrest Avenue. Here’s the number, Walnut 3321.” He dialed the number, WA3321. “Hello Buddy, this is Coach Breman.” He paused, “Yes.”

            Adam began to add up the dangers involved if the two thieves were to find out who had recommended them. He didn’t think the two culprits knew that he was alive, much less that he knew what they had done. But, he didn’t want to take any chances. He gestured to himself with a negative hand signal which indicated he did not want his name used.

            “Someone has recommended you and your neighbor, Freddy, for the job of set-up people before the New Years Eve party. I don’t know if you’re interested but we could sure use you. It is a little after three now. You would need to be at the school by four. That’s when they’re going to work. You’ll be paid. What do you think?”

            Shaddi, he evoked.

            “I am here,” Shaddi whispered low.

            Adam watched Coach’s expressions and recognized that Buddy had given his answer.

            “You would? Very good. You’ll have to ask your friend. I don’t have his number. If you could call me right back‒” he paused again. “Really? He lets you speak for him does he?”

            Adam nodded in the affirmative with exaggerated head movements.

            “Well, fine. Now, be sure to call back if your parents say― What?”

            Adam rolled his eyes. I’ll bet his parents don’t tell him anything.

            “Good, I’ll call Principal Jackson and tell him I have hired you two and you will both be there in less that an hour― Well, thank you.”

            “Thanks Coach. I don’t know the guys but they both seem to need money lately,” Adam smiled and stuck out his hand.

            “Thank you Adam. That solves a big problem for me. I was going to have to go over to the school myself. Fritzy wanted me to see her new party dress and her mother hasn’t finished making it.” He smiled and the two chuckled as Adam edged out the door.

            He looked back at the house and saw Fritzy waving from an upstairs window. Well, at least she’s smiling. He smiled and waved back. His stomach felt giddy and he remembered he hadn’t eaten much that morning. How could he have forgotten the peanut butter sandwiches Mrs. G. had given him?

            Adam walked along the sidewalk for several blocks then realized he was probably on

the path the two thieves would take if they walked to school to help set-up for the party. The snow had fallen all night and Adam wondered if it would ever stop again. The concrete had been freshly shoved by each homeowner in front of their own property so walking was more safe than in recent days.

            The Middletown Public Library was just ahead, in the next block, on the left. He hurried across the street and dashed into the building. Once inside, he turned and watched through the window in the door. Freddy and Buddy lived just two blocks down on the other side of the street.

            “Are you going out Young Man?” A blue haired lady with a purple flowered head scarf  tapped one goulashes-covered foot in Adam’s direction.

            “No Ma’am. Let me get the door for you though.” He smiled broadly and held the door open for the woman. He could see the boys a few houses down as they walked along the sidewalk. Adam stepped behind the lady as he waited for her to pass.

            “Thank you. It is nice to see polite young people again. I thought perhaps the war had wiped gallantry off the list of manly attributes.”

            “No Ma’am. The list is still intact.” Adam pulled the door closed as soon as she cleared the threshold. He stepped to the side of the door and peered around the wooden frame window pane.

            Look at them, still hitting and poking at each other. They have a home and food and heat and lights and they are the most unhappy pair I’ve ever seen. Never noticed them much before and will try to ignore them when school starts again. You guys don’t know it, but today I will become your very best friend.

            After the boys passed the library, Adam stepped back out into the cold. What would he

do? Then, he knew. The power of knowing had come over him before and he thought everyone had the same experience. He was learning that wasn’t so.

            Mrs. Phillips is probably in the kitchen fixing dinner. That feels right. The time is just a little past four o’clock. Mr. Phillips might be home from work, might not. If he is, he could be in the livingroom reading the newspaper or listening to the radio. Edward R Murrow isn’t on yet, so maybe there would be no radio distraction. I’ve got to take the risk. It doesn’t feel like Mr. Phillips is home from work yet. I have to believe that what I am doing is right and that I won’t get caught. Shaddi, cloak me in invisibility.

            Adam opened the main entrance to the library and gasped. Everything outside beyond the library looked like an animated cartoon drawing with vivid colors, oversized flowers, and exaggerated details on everything. He had stepped into Mr. O’Shaughnessy’s world. Adam knew it. He looked beneath the snow-covered bushes on the other side of the street. He was sure he would get a glimpse of the wee one himself. He saw nothing unusual but sensed there was a treasure hidden someplace and that convinced him even more that the Christ Child carving was near by.   

            Adam crossed the street a few houses up from the Phillips’ home. The sun was bright.  He knew he couldn’t hide in the center of a spotlight and he couldn’t just stand out in the street to  look the situation over. He didn’t try to understand any of it but he felt safe inside the fantasy bubble world.

            Not too fast and not too slow, he warned himself as he walked past the Phillip’s garage and studied the layout carefully.

            The garage had a side entrance. Adam could casually walk up to the garage door. If

anyone were to pass by, he wouldn’t draw attention to himself if he was relaxed and looked like he belonged there. He knew he was the only one who actually lived in Mr. O’Shaughnessy dream  world. Anyone else would be out of place. He alone belonged there so he would not be sneaky, nervous, guarded, or afraid as he retrieved the carving.

            Shaddi cautioned quietly, Move slowly and deliberately.

            Adam would do his best to follow those orders. “Shaddi, give me x-ray vision,” he whispered into the afternoon sun. 

            He was thankful the garage had a side entrance so he wouldn’t have to open the larger, louder one. He knew Shaddi would follow through so he focused his x-ray vision on the inside of the garage. Next to the side door was a long workbench. Adam knew he had remembered correctly.

            He walked up to the door just like he lived there. He didn’t check over his shoulder or fumble with the knob. He simply opened the door and walked in.

            The bag is under the work bench, the Power of Knowing told him. That’s where I saw. He looked again. The duffle isn’t there. Adam couldn’t believe it.

            Stay calm My Son, Shaddi whispered.

            Adam bent low and looked far back under the bench to where the sides met the wall. There, in the corner, pushed behind some paint cans, was the USN sea bag. 

            Adam moved the cans carefully and smiled. In one of those worst scenario visions a guy  can have, he could see himself kick over a bucket of paint and leave red footprints all the way back to the foot of the bell tower ladder at the church.

            That is not going to happen, he determined confidently. He was no longer a scared kid with no home, no family, and no backbone, hiding in the shadows and moving around only in the dark. He would not stay silent any longer. Not that he would make any noise, but everybody was going to hear from him.       

            He grabbed hold of the top of the duffle and carefully removed the bag. He thought of

the infant’s hands and tiny fingers. I will not return the carving with so much as a small scratch on the wood.

            After he withdrew the bag, each paint can was carefully replaced exactly as he had found them. He lifted the duffle into his arms like a new daddy would lift his son, opened the side door to the garage, and stepped out. He was not in the clear yet but he was no longer in the safety of a  fantasy. He was still in the Phillips’ yard. He had to be able to walk away from the house, with the bag, without being seen.

            “Hide in my shadows,” the shadows offered. “I will make your deception complete. No one will see you. You will do wonders within my darkness. No one will know you.” 

            “Walk boldly, My Son,” Shaddi directed. “Do not listen to them. I am the way.”

            With his head held high, Adam gently pulled the door behind him and strolled down the concrete drive just like he lived there.

            He had rounded the snowy edge of the drive and was back onto the sidewalk when he heard a car coming in the distance. The sound carries so far on the icy air, he thought and was thankful for the blessing. He fixed his eyes like flint on the prize that was ahead. He was going to return the Christ Child carving to its home.

            Adam crossed the street and walked up the steps of the library just like any other patron in search of a good book for the weekend. As before, once inside, he turned, watched from the windows, and waited a few minutes. He was suddenly aware that his breathing was heavy. He had felt no fear when he rescued the carving. Now, after the danger had passed, his body seemed to say, What just happened? What did I do?

            No cars had passed on Maplecrest since he left the Phillips’ garage, walked the block or

so to the library, and went in. He couldn’t see how anyone could make an association between him and the house at 1220. He started to open the library door, then noticed a car pull into the Phillips’ driveway so Adam waited. A man got out, closed the car door, and walked right into the house without knocking. I guess Mr. Phillips is home now. Thank you Shaddi. 

            Adam stepped out of the library as if he were one of their most benevolent patrons, a friend of the library he would be called. With confidence and courage, he walked down the steps and back to Cranberry Street. He carried the Baby Jesus in his arms. Pops carried him the same way when he was very little. Adam wondered why he remembered that.    

            When he got to the church parsonage, he studied the scene before he approached. The days were short and evening shadows had started to gather that enveloped the house and tucked the day under the bushes. Inside, the kitchen light was already on. As Adam watched, someone turned off one of the living room lights. Through the window to the left of the door, he could see Pastor Silverman move from the couch to the dining room table. Adam walked down the sidewalk on the other side of the street where the buildings cast even longer shadows. He walked five yards beyond the Silverman’s house, crossed the street, then doubled back so he could approach the porch past the living room window, not the dining room.

            Shaddi, let me give this Christ Child back to the church anonymously. Take away my fear.

            Quietly, cautiously, but with smooth confidence, he stepped up the two steps and then onto the porch. Thank you, Shaddi, for cement. Concrete doesn’t creak. He set the sea bag beside the front door. Now, how do I get away? I wish I had a horse—a flying horse like Pegasus.

            In a whirl of blinding snow and wishful thinking a white winged horse appeared with a

mane of silver silk. Adam rang the doorbell, swung his leg over the horse, mounted his back, and swiftly bounded over the side porch railing. With Pegasus’s help, he waited in the shelter of the high limbs of the near by oak tree.

            “What is this?’ Pastor Silverman questioned as he opened the door.

            “What is it, Dear?” Mrs. Silverman stepped onto the porch beside him.

            “I don’t know,” he said then stooped to untie the sea bag. “Connie, will you just look.” He carefully pulled the top of the duffle down while the rich glow of the Lebanon Cedar arms reached up and out.

            “Honey,” Connie Silverman’s eyes filled with tears, “it’s home. The Christ Child is home. It’s a miracle.”

            The boy didn’t breathe a word. He saw all the joy he could ever imagine from the top of the oak tree. He was filled with amazement for a moment, then he remembered the price to be  paid when you live on wishes.

            Adam saw the return of the carving and the joy it brought, but he saw it from afar. He wasn’t really a part of the “miracle.” While he saw the happiness, he was not part of the rejoicing. Once the excitement passed, he was ready for another thrill charge

     Sequel, Escape from the Shadows, is available on amazon.com and b&n.com. If you                   remember snail-mail, for a better price, check out offer at www.dorisgainesrapp.com..