Tuesday, December 22, 2015

CHURCH LADY P.I.: Part # 14 (Plans and Pleas)


CHURCH LADY P.I. Part # 14
(PLANS AND PLEAS)




REMEMBER: This is a mystery and it must be read in order, including the  Introduction, then Part 1, Part 2, etc. Also read the Companion Blog Post from my Personal Blog, "Laura-Lee Was Here" called, "FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I.". There are clues everywhere. (LR)


We gave Ginnette about 5 minutes to get into her position next to the crate by the bedroom window. While we were waiting, Bert insisted that we "synchronize our watches". Since neither Marc nor I were actually wearing a watch, Bert ended up just being disappointed. I heard him say under his breath, "What kind of people don't wear watches?" 

I was wondering if Bert had even heard of a thing called a "cell phone". But for all the good mine was doing me since I had come to this tiny town, it probably would have been better if I did have just a regular watch.

Marc slapped him on the back with an "Off you go, Buddy. See you on the flip-side."

Bert simply nodded and ran off at full speed down the hill towards the woods by "Lower Zion" where he had left his truck. I turned to look at Marc when he suddenly scooped me into his arms and gave me the most intense kiss I had ever encountered in my life.

When we finally pulled apart he actually had to steady me on my feet before letting go of me. I looked up at him with mock anger and whispered, "That's not very nice."

He looked at me puzzled, "It wasn't? I thought it was pretty darn nice."

"No." I corrected him, "I mean it's not nice to steal my breath away when I'm going to need it in a couple minutes!" I said, barely audibly.

He had already started jogging backwards away from me saying, "Tit for tat, My Lady. Tit for tat." Then he turned and raced off into the night at his full speed, but in the opposite direction from Bert, heading up towards the heights of the "Mount Zion" hill.

I started walking with slow, purposeful steps towards the Director's cabin thinking about how I was going to tease Marc later for saying the word, "Tit". Twice! I was pretty sure I could get a full on blush from him when I reminded him of it.

Then I suddenly heard Marc's voice yell out, "S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y, NIGHT!!" just once and was amazed that it seemed to be coming from almost half way up the hill already. I heard the voice of each sentry respond (with words I cannot repeat) and I knew Marc would be 'treating' them to a night they would not soon forget.

I was still steadily approaching the dilapidated front porch of the former Camp Director's Cottage when the silly urge to knock and announce, "Avon calling" took me over and I almost giggled out loud.
I decided I had better get serious fast, but as I was picturing Bert in his truck, Marc running around in the night with those two evil men deserving whatever he had planned for them and Ginnette being reunited with her daughter and stealing her out the back window, while I had a "chat" with Mr. Harkins at this end, it all seemed remarkably ridiculous to me.

That is, until I saw the cabin door open a crack and heard the voice of Mr. Harker whisper loudly "Who's out there?" 
Suddenly, all merry-making was thrown off in a split second and a spirit of heaviness fell, as if someone had just thrown a robe of chains across my shoulders.

If Fear had a tangible voice, it would have been Mr. Harker's at that time and that place.

I simply froze in my tracks before the bottom step of the porch. Harker saw me there and I heard him growl in a low, intense voice,
"You! What are you doing here?!"

The door, which he had opened only a crack, he now opened wider to get a better look around. He seemed surprised to see that I was all by myself. Just standing there.

Again, he demanded in a gruff voice, "What are you doing here?"

I simply didn't know what to say. So I just stood there and said nothing. But not only did I say nothing, I didn't seem able to think anything either. And until that moment, I thought it was an impossibility for a person to "think" nothing. But it felt as if someone had just hit my "off" button.

Then one verse from the Bible shot through my mind and I grabbed  hold of it. At least it was a thought. It was something. Although it didn't exactly spur me on to great action:

"As a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth." { Isaiah 53:7 }

And so I just stood there. Saying nothing as that one verse replayed over and over in my head.

Mr. Harker stared at me for what seemed a long while. He listened to the night. Heard nothing. Then he eventually came furtively out of the cabin, constantly scanning around. With a big frown on his face he walked tentatively towards me, looking as if he would "duck and cover" at any moment.

He asked me other questions too like, "Who sent you?", "Where are the others?", "Why are you just standing here all alone?", "How did you get here?"

As he was shooting these questions at me, he made his way out of the cabin and searched me. (For weapons I assume) Then he slowly backed away from me again towards the door of the cabin, but now I realized he had a rifle pointed at me. Still I said nothing.

Then, without any warning at all, I began to cry. Bitterly.

Oh, the depth of sorrow I felt at that precise moment! Even now it's hard to describe. But it felt like every misery in the world had been given to me and I had been overwhelmed by them. As if every heart in the world that knew grief and pain and suffering was beating in my chest. Or maybe I wasn't feeling every heart in the world but rather the suffering of just one heart, but a whole lifetime's worth. What else could I do but stand there and sob?

Mr. Harker's frown had left his face and it had been replaced by what I took to be no emotion at all. He stood there and merely watched as the tears coursed down my cheeks.

When the tears were still flowing, but I had stopped sobbing, I noticed Mr. Harker had gone back into the cabin and was standing just inside the doorway, holding onto the door knob as if for support. His rifle was no longer pointing at me, but resting in the crook of his arm and facing towards the ground. Through the door way, which was wide open, he was still watching me.

He asked, not without some kindness, "What do you want?"


I responded with these words,


"Oh, how I have longed to gather you as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you would not have me." {Matt 23:38} and I felt the longing and tragedy of those words.

Mr. Harker's eyes widened in surprise, but he eventually shook his head and said, "It's too late for that. It's over for me now."

I responded,

 "I have come that you would have abundant grace and life."
        { John 10:10; Romans 5:17 }

Again, he was shaking his head as he said,
"I wish it could be that way, but for me, there's no way out. Maybe there was at one time, but not any more."

I saw his shoulders physically slump.

I responded with,

" You were redeemed from your empty way of life and not with silver and gold, but with my own blood. 
     I am the Way and the Truth and the Life."          
         { 1 Peter 1:18; John 14:6 }

 I paused briefly before adding one more thing, with emotion deeper than I thought myself capable of,

"I love you, Joseph. And while you are still in your sins I have died for you."
                         { Romans 5:8 }

I watched him shake his head over and over and then gently,
 without another word, 
            he pushed the door shut. 
                 I heard a bolt slide into place as he locked it, 
                              from the inside. 

I stood there mere seconds before I turned and started walking away.

Before I had walked another 20 paces I saw a blinding light that filled and overtook everything. It lit up that dark, dark night around me, as if I was suddenly standing on the surface of the sun. I felt my feet leave the ground just before I lost consciousness.

LINK to Next Part # 15 "Waking"






FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I. from "Laura-Lee Was Here" Blog (COMPANION POST)


CHURCH LADY P.I.: Introduction





Copyright 2015 "The characters and events in this story are not meant to represent any persons living or dead and are entirely a product of the imagination of the writer." LR

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