Broken Identity (11 page)

Drake looked confused.

“Did you see my sign when you came in?”

“The thing about the chariots and horses? Sure, but what’s it mean?”

“It’s a Scripture. I like it because…well, because I’m a car salesman, and it’s my way of reminding everyone who walks through that door that even though material things may fail us, God will never fail.”

Drake raised his head slightly as if he understood, even though he was still clueless
. I don’t think this guy’s elevator goes to the top floor.

“I’m a Christian, and I believe that God loves every one of us. I want you to know that Jesus is the one giving you this, not me. When I see a brother or sister in need and begin to feel God tugging at my heart, I see it as my duty to help.”

Is this guy for real?
Drake raised an eyebrow and repeated, “A brother or sister?”

“Of course.” Bruno placed the cash in Drake’s hand and smiled.

Crisp and real. How strangely different it felt to be holding hundred dollar bills instead of a wad of ones.
As long as it’s not counterfeit, this guy can talk to me about the migration patterns of Canadian geese for all I care.

“I’m helping you because someone very special helped me,” Bruno said. “His name is Jesus Christ, and a long time ago He died on a cross for us. It was the only way for God to take away our sins so we could live eternally with Him one day in Heaven.”

Jesus Christ. Those words struck a wrong chord in Drake’s heart. “Yeah, I’ve heard about Him,” he mumbled, gritting his teeth.
He’s the guy who got my mom killed. Thanks, but no thanks. I’m doing just fine without Him.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Bruno said. “A lot of young people these days don’t even know who He is…But He’s real, Drake.”

Drake looked into the man’s eyes and sensed those words really meant something to him.

“He’s real and He loves you. If you have any questions, you know where to find me. Take care of yourself, Drake, and God bless you.”

Drake nodded, but no words came out. He thrust the money deep inside his front pocket and walked through the door with a thousand new ideas.

Sucker.

Andrew Tavner didn’t routinely go to bed this early, but he could tell Ronnie was tired and wouldn’t go to bed without him in the room. “OK, but I have to warn you, I snore,” he said.

“I know,” Ronnie said, tugging on his socks. “I heard you last night.”

Ronnie’s words were about as matter-of-fact as if Andrew had asked him to describe the weather. “Whoever said honesty was the best policy forgot to mention how blunt it could be.”

Ronnie grinned. “I still don’t know what that word means, but OK.”

Andrew threw a pillow at him and rose from the couch. “All right, time for bed.”

Ronnie tucked his blanket under one arm and his stuffed panda under the other. “Arrow’s tired too,” he explained.

“Arrow? How’d you ever come to give a panda a name like that?”

“I had a cat one time I named Arrow because she had a spot on her head that looked like an arrowhead. She was my favorite. Black and white all over, even on the tips of her ears. After she died, Daddy bought me this bear to make me stop crying. The panda was black and white too, so I named my panda after Arrow.”

“Ah, I see. That perfectly clears things up. Well, Arrow looks about as tired as you do right now, so I suggest we all get a good night’s sleep tonight. Sound good?”

Ronnie held up Arrow and stared into his small, black eyes. “Does that sound good, Arrow?” He pretended to listen, and then turned to his uncle. “He thinks we should have one more ice cream before we go to bed.”

Andrew put his hands on his knees and leaned down. “Tell Arrow he already had two today and a third might make his stomach hurt.”

Ronnie gave him a sly look. “Oh, OK. Good night, Uncle Andy!” He reached up to hug him, and Andrew bent over to return the hug. “Good night—to the both of you. I’ll be upstairs in a second.”

Ronnie scurried off while Andrew followed him—at a much slower pace, naturally—up the stairs. Andrew crawled into bed and pulled the covers over his shoulders, hoping against hope that he would be able to get some rest tonight. It was only nine o’clock, and he wasn’t the least tired.

“Uncle Andy?” Ronnie said, snuggling deeper under his covers.

“Uh-huh?”

“Do you have a job? Because you didn’t work yesterday or the day before that.”

Andrew smiled and gazed up at the obscure shadows darkening the ceiling. “That’s because I’m retired, Ronnie. I don’t have to work anymore.”

Ronnie shot up straight. “You don’t have to work?”

Andrew chuckled. “Well, I used to work a lot, but after many years at my job, I was able to retire.”

“And they pay you? Just to sit around and do whatever you want?”

“Yep. That’s the beauty of retirement, Ronnie.”

“Wow. I wanna be retired when I grow up,” Ronnie said, a new enthusiasm in his voice.

Not five minutes later, Andrew heard Ronnie’s breathing getting deeper and knew he had finally gone to sleep. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the uninterrupted silence.
Jesus…thanks for giving Ronnie to me. He’s such a wonderful kid. He’s already added another ten years to my life. Always bright and happy, despite all the heartache and pain that ravaged his life for so long. Please let him always find peace here. Help me as I raise him, and draw him close to You. And God, as far as Kevin goes…

He yearned to ask God to forgive his brother for the things he had done against Ronnie, but he couldn’t find it in himself to get the words out.

I know it’s wrong and I know You want me to forgive, but I just don’t think I can. Not now. You were there at Kevin’s house all the times I wasn’t able to be there. You saw what went on and how he treated Ronnie. I know You forgive, but forgiving a lousy, drunken man for abusing a child seems way beyond even Your reach. I’m sorry, but not now.

A sharp rapping at the door broke Andrew’s thoughts, and he instinctively sat up. “Kevin,” he whispered to himself.

He threw his covers back and squinted in the darkness to see if Ronnie had heard the noise.

Still asleep.

He left the room and tentatively walked downstairs toward the front door.
No, it couldn’t be Kevin. Not at this time of night. Anyway, he wouldn’t dare…would he?

He headed directly for the light switch and flicked on the porch light. Then he stepped aside to a nearby window and discreetly parted the blinds. He could only see the backside of a man, but from what he was able to perceive, he knew it couldn’t be Kevin.
Thank You, God.

Still guarded, he wondered if he should go get his gun—just to be safe. That would mean going back upstairs and probably waking Ronnie. Surely it was just the neighbor.

He cracked the front door open slightly and found himself face to face with a teenage boy. “Hello?” he said, glancing around his yard to make sure there was no one else.

“Name’s Drake,” the young man said, not bothering to offer his hand. He quickly removed his ragged cap and tried to appear as presentable as possible. “I, uh…” He looked past Andrew to the inside of his house.
Whew, what a place.

“Did you need something, or…”

What’re you doin’ here, Drake? You’re not even worth his time. Why don’t you just leave and forget about it?
Drake forced his pride behind him and said straightforwardly, “Do you know if there’s a nearby shelter or anything around here?”

“A shelter?”

Drake wanted to roll his eyes, but decided against it. “Yeah, you know…” He broke off eye contact with the man and looked away somewhere to his left, never feeling more humiliated in all his life. “Where homeless people go,” he said, so low that he could barely hear himself.

Oh,
Andrew thought.

“Look, I ain’t got no gun on me or nothin’, if that’s what you’re thinkin’.” He opened up the bag he was holding to show the man he was telling the truth. Then he lifted up his shirt to reveal that there was no handgun or weapon tucked away in his pants. “I don’t have nothin’ to hide. I just need a place to sleep for the night.”

“Where are you from?”

“Missouri. I, uh…hitchhiked a ride up here from a man who had an Illinois plate and got dropped off here.”
What a liar.

“Do you have any family? Any relatives?”

“Nope. Only child, both my folks are dead, and as far as family goes, your guess is just as good as mine.”

Compassion filled Andrew’s heart as the words of his pastor came back to him.
I’m not saying that you give money to every person you see on the side of the road asking for it; God instructs us to use wisdom. Ask God to give you discernment, and let Him use you.
Andrew opened the door wide and asked Drake to come in and sit.

As short as the walk was from the front door to the living room, Drake took in every sight around him. A magnificent two-story house with a massive stone fireplace surrounded by armchairs made of smooth, mahogany wood and a glass coffee table in the middle of the room made Drake feel as if he were walking into the palace of a king. And the air conditioning…when was the last time he had been in a house that had that? “You have a very beautiful house,” he said, unable to help himself.

“Thank you.”

Drake stood in front of a chair padded with crimson fabric, but felt as if he would disgrace it if he sat in it with his filthy clothes. He set his bag on the floor and remained standing. “I don’t mean to be in your way. All I came here for was to ask where a shelter was.”

“Are you hungry?”

Am I ever.
Drake nodded his head. He had been so preoccupied on the drive up here and during the whole episode with the car salesman that he had completely forgotten about food. The more he thought about food, however, the more he realized how hungry he felt.

“Good. Follow me.”

Drake warily followed the man into the kitchen, where he watched him pull out a long, trim piece of steak from the refrigerator, put it on a plate, and heat it in the microwave. The smell overwhelmed Drake’s senses so much that he considered pinching himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Then again, if this was a dream, he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to wake up. He didn’t know what to make of a crazy, old man suddenly welcoming him into his home and treating him as if he were his own son. He was just glad he had picked this house to come to instead of the one across the street.

Andrew slid the sizzling plate of food over to him and sat. “Tell me about yourself, Drake.”

“There’s not much to tell,” Drake said, careful to keep his food from dropping out of his mouth as he talked.

“So you were just going to find a shelter somewhere and what, live there until…”

“A job would be nice, but unlikely.”

Andrew wasn’t sure what he meant by that. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Drake stopped chewing and faced the man expressionlessly. “What’s not to understand? Just look at me and see if you can figure it out.”

Andrew studied him and said, “I don’t see anything—”

“You’re right. You don’t see anything. Neither does anybody else, and that’s why I can’t find a job. Even tattoo joints won’t hire me, as filthy as they are.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

Drake just nodded his head. “So what about you? Livin’ in a big house like this, you must have kids.”

“Oh, I’m not married. Never have been.”

Drake snorted and said, “You don’t have to be married to have kids these days, pal. This is the twenty-first century, remember?”

Andrew felt his face flush. “Excuse me?”

Drake swallowed his food and shook his head. “Never mind. So what’s the big house for then?”

“I inherited it.”

“No kiddin’? You know what my inheritance is?”

Andrew didn’t know if he should even dare answer.

“A house that’s falling apart and a refrigerator stocked with twenty-four cans of beer. That’s all my old man leaves me with.”

Andrew looked down. Saying, “I’m sorry” probably wouldn’t be an appropriate response, so he decided it would be better if he said nothing at all.

Tiny droplets of juice from the steak still clung to Drake’s fork, so he put it in his mouth and licked off what little was left, knowing that this would undoubtedly be the last time he ever tasted steak again in his life. Sure, he had six hundred and fifty-two dollars now, but he wasn’t going to waste a cent of it on expensive food or hotel rooms. Five dollars a day on food would last him one hundred thirty days, meaning he would run out just before the cold months began. A hotel room would sure be nice then.

Drake set his fork on his empty plate and rose to leave. “Thanks. The steak was great.”

“Are you leaving already?”

Drake shrugged. “Don’t have no reason to stay.”

“The nearest shelter is almost ten miles from here.”

Drake looked outside into the blackness. “I guess I got a long walk ahead of me then, huh?” He tried to smile, but a frown exposed his uncertainty.

Andrew thought a moment, praying to God for wisdom.
God, You know I’m not one to let strangers into my home. Ronnie’s here, and his safety is number one to me.
Andrew couldn’t shake the feeling, though, that God was trying to tell him something. “Drake, wait,” he said.