Like Sheep Gone Astray (19 page)

Kent shook his head as Mona disappeared into the bathroom, a toothbrush and comb in hand. It didn't make sense. There were several other electronic devices and valuable items in the home office he and Mona shared. Kent closed his eyes and pictured the small room as he had seen it before leaving. Apart from the stack of paper and business cards that were on the floor, from what he could remember nothing else had been disturbed.

Why would someone sneak in and steal only a battered, out-of-date cell phone? It didn't make sense. Kent was still shaking his head when Mona reappeared at the bathroom doorway, looking refreshed and rejuvenated in the mixture of fire and moonlight. Kent felt himself relaxing again as he took in her ageless beauty. It was only the wind, he told himself.
And I must have put my phone somewhere else without realizing it.

As waves crashed into cliffs below their window, and salt mixed with the smell of burning logs in their nostrils, Kent and Mona began their vacation in the quiet, calming company of one another's arms.

Anthony pulled in front of Kellye Porter's home just after midnight. The porch light was on and the door was ajar.

“Anthony, is that you?”

He followed Sister Porter's voice into the kitchen, where she was sitting at a pine table in front of a bowl of cold chicken and dumplings.

“I can't sleep, I can't eat. I don't know what to do.” Her eyes were bloodshot from tears and tiredness. She was still wearing the same plain white blouse and gray skirt she'd had on at the hospital, the outfit she'd pulled on the night before when the ambulance had been on its way.

“Sister Porter, you should just…” Anthony did not know what to say. Even after dealing with so many personal tragedies in his own life, he was still speechless when it came to addressing death.

Kellye Porter did not seem to mind the silence. She dabbed her eyes and explained that Bernard's sister and a niece were on their way from out of town to help her with the funeral arrangements, and the pastor and a few members from church would be over in the morning.

“At least you won't be alone,” Anthony commented, trying to remove any hint of anxiousness from his voice.

As if Sister Porter had read his mind, she suddenly rose from the high-backed kitchen chair and motioned for Anthony to follow her to the attic. “1 did not intend to hold you long, Minister Murdock, so let me point out this box to you. I can't reach it for nothing.”

She heaved up the narrow attic staircase. “Like I said, I have no idea what would be so important that Bernard would make me promise to give it to you, but nonetheless there it is, that shoe box on the bottom shelf over there.”

She pointed to a bookcase on the opposite wall. It was a small attic, but the floor was an obstacle course of trunks, boxes, furniture, and crates. Anthony could see why there had been so much commotion when Sister Porter called him.

“I hope you have better luck reaching it than I did.” Before she could continue to speak, a phone began ringing somewhere in the house.

“Must be another family member.” Kellye glanced down at the watch on her arm. “A lot of people are just finding out about Bernard.” She scurried away to answer the phone, leaving Anthony to pick his way to the box.

He could hear the muffled sound of her voice as he slowly lifted the lid off the old shoe box. The single item inside was an opened envelope containing a letter, addressed to Bernard Porter.

Anthony slowly opened it and flipped the business-sized letter around in his hands several times before reading the typed print.

January 12, 2003

Steelworkers' Guild #29

409 Central Avenue

Shepherd Hills, MD 29473

Mr. Bernard Porter

7493 Blue Wheel Court

Shepherd Hills, MD 29473

Dear Mr. Porter:

This letter is in response to your request to have your prescription plan reviewed. As is true with all retirees of Toringhouse Steel, prescription co-pays are either 7% or $15 of the purchase price, whichever is less. As your union, we can only petition in your behalf if we have the original employee folder that details the specifics of the union's agreement between employer and employee at that time. As you were last employed over twenty years ago, your file would have been maintained in our former Perkins Street headquarters.

During the move to our new office ten years ago, several employee files were misplaced, or otherwise lost. Unfortunately, your file appears to be among the missing. Therefore we can only help you if you have an original copy of your employee file that includes the date of your hire in 1956. Sorry for any inconvenience.

Sincerely,

SG#29

Anthony groaned in disappointment. What did this have to do with his father—or Stonymill, for that matter? He studied the text again, noting only that the words “former Perkins Street headquarters” had been circled in black ink. Anthony sighed as he refolded the letter and placed it back in the box and placed the box back on the bookshelf. In his illness, Minister Porter must have forgotten where he had placed whatever it was he really wanted Anthony to see. Or maybe there simply was nothing to see at all. Regardless, there was no point in keeping a letter that had nothing to do with him.

“Did you get it?”

Anthony had not noticed Sister Porter's return.

“I found it, but…but…” Anthony could see hope and satisfaction pouring from Sister Porter's eyes. He did not want to taint an important moment in her grieving by sharing his disappointment. “But I'm not going to keep you up any longer. Thank you for sharing this with me, Sister Porter.” He avoided the question in her eyes as they walked back to the kitchen.

“My sister-in-law and niece should be here soon. I guess I should try to rest before they come. Tomorrow is going to be another long day. Thank you for coming over so late, Anthony. It means a lot for me to know that Bernard can rest in peace.” She dabbed her eyes with a tissue.

“Let me know of any way that I can help you.” Anthony buttoned his coat.

“You have already helped me so much today.” Sister Porter opened the front door for him. He gave her a warm hug before descending the steps.

“Anthony.” Her voice quivered from inside the living room. Anthony looked back with a pensive smile.

“Thank you.” That was all that was left to be said. Anthony nodded and started for his car. He never even noticed the red Lexus parked at the end of the cul-de-sac.

“I got you now,” Terri mumbled to herself. She could not believe her eyes, watching Anthony disappear into an unfamiliar house and leave almost an hour later, his arms embracing another woman. She could not see who the woman was, but she could tell from the departing hug that there was a lot of warmth between them.

She started to call Cherisse. But what would she say? The entire time he had been inside that woman's home, she had contemplated doing some damage to his car, or to that house. But what would she do?

“Jesus!” It was funny how easily that name slipped out when she wasn't sure what else to do, or who else to call.

She watched as Anthony made a turnabout, passed her, and disappeared down the quiet street. That was when she knew what she was going to do.

In one fluid move, she was out of her car and walking to the house. With every step she felt angrier, stronger, even more certain of what she was going to say to this woman. Names and combinations of names—crude words she rarely said out loud—lay on the tip of her tongue like venom. And she was ready to bite. Anthony would be next.

“Open this door!” She pounded loud enough that a few lights were turned on in the neighboring houses. “I said
open this door!”

“Terri, is that you?” A weak and tired voice came from the other side.

“Do I know you? You better hope I don't know your—”

“Terri!” The door was flung open. Kellye Porter stood in a bathrobe, the strength in her voice betrayed only by the single tear slipping from her eye.

“Sister Porter! Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry!” Terri did not realize that her legs had given way until she tasted the fuzzy, plush carpet of the Porters' living room and felt her knees against the cold cement of the porch. “I'm so sorry!” She could not stop weeping.

Sister Porter knelt beside Terri and pulled her head into her lap. Her tears were flowing as easily as Terri's. “It's okay, dear heart.”

“I'm sorry. I thought…I thought…”

“It's okay. I understand.” She stroked Terri's head the way a mother coddles her crying child. They sat this way for a while, each trying to comfort the other while releasing tears from their own different wells.

Finally Sister Porter rose to her feet, pulling Terri with her. After closing and locking the front door, she directed them to seats on the plastic-covered sofa of her living room.

“Bernard used to sit right on this corner to read the paper until he became ill. I used to get so sick of him reading that newspaper, beginning to end, hours at a time, every single day.”

“I'm so sorry, Sister Porter. With all you've been through over the past twenty-four hours, how could you ever forgive me for acting like such a fool?” Terri's eyes were closed, her hands clenched in her lap.

“Oh hush, honey. Don't get me wrong, I'm hurting right now, but it's not because of you. I done lost too much today to be worried about you trying to beat down my door one o'clock in the morning. I told you, I understand. I have—I had—a husband and a part of me wishes I could go banging on heaven's door right now and scream at God for stealing my husband away from me. But I got too much hope and faith to think I'll never see my Bernard again. I haven't lost him, because I know where he is.” She sighed, but a trace of a smile surfaced on her tear-streaked face. “I got hope and you got a husband. And a good one, too.”

“Sister Porter, I am completely embarrassed. Anthony's been acting so strange lately. I don't know what came over me.”

“Honey, marriage itself can be strange at times. I had forty-six years of it and there are still days I can think of that I'll never understand exactly what was going on. You know, in Ephesians, when Paul compared Christ and His believers to a marriage between a man and a woman, he called it a mystery. Marriage is a day-to-day process of becoming one, just like we are daily trying to abide in Christ and letting Him abide in us.”

Terri shook her head.

“What is it, honey?”

“Nothing. It's—I mean…does everything really have to come down to Jesus? At what point do you just live your life and not get, well, obsessed with religion? Don't get me wrong, I think God is important and should have a place in your life, but there's more to life than going to church. There's work and money and people and issues and—well, everything else.”

Sister Porter smiled even with a wet wad of tissues crinkled in her hand. “You're right, Terri. There is more to life than going to church. In fact, I'm not even talking about church. I'm talking about a relationship with Jesus. Jesus said He is life and that He came so we could have abundant life. So if you don't have Jesus, what do you have?”

Terri shrugged, not sure that she wanted to continue with the conversation. It had been a long, emotional day, and the whole Jesus thing was making her think about more than she wanted.

Sister Porter continued. “When you think of your marriage to Anthony, you don't think of it only as the time you spend eating dinner together. Your marriage is a constant thing, each moment you spend together, your conversations, your feelings, your commitment. You are married whether you are in the same room or not, on the same page or not. For better or worse, you have a relationship with Anthony, just like you have a relationship with Christ—if you have one.

“It's a living, growing, constant thing you choose to get into that affects every decision you make, the way you get through your day, the way you define yourself. And unlike a marriage to a man, Jesus is guaranteed to never leave you, even if you try to get out of it yourself. Going to church is a small part of that relationship, just as eating meals together is a small part of your relationship with Anthony.”

Tears refilled Terri's eyes. She could not figure out what nerve Sister Porter was touching, but it reminded her of how she'd felt the night before, watching Mother Howard sing at prayer service.

“Terri”—Sister Porter took her hand as she spoke—“Jesus died for your sins so that you could have this relationship with Him. He rose to confirm His promise of life to you. The Bible says all we have to do is confess with our mouths the Lord Jesus, and believe in our hearts that God raised Him from the dead, and we shall be saved. Now, Terri—”

A loud knock at the front door jolted both of them.

“Oh my, that must be my sister-in-law and niece. It's almost two-thirty. Terri, sweetheart, you need to get home to your husband.” They both walked the short distance to the door. Just before Sister Porter opened it, Terri took both her hands.

“Sister Porter, I'm sorry to have bothered you at such a difficult time.”

“Oh, honey, it was meant to be. There are no accidents or coincidences in God's Kingdom.”

“Thank you. You've given me a lot to think about.” Terri was being honest.

The night air greeted them like a cold handshake when Sister Porter opened the door. On the porch stood two women, both shaking and crying from grief.

“Oh, Kellye, I can't stand this! My little brother is gone!” The older woman wept, a wrinkled nursing uniform peeking from underneath her coat. “I left work and drove up here as soon as you called!”

“Mabel, it'll be all right.” Terri was almost off the porch steps when Sister Porter thought to introduce the two to her.

“Forgive me, Terri. This is my sister-in-law, Mabel Lin-stead, and her daughter, Denise, who've come all the way up from Sharen, South Carolina, to help me.”

Terri nodded at the weeping trio as she departed. Anthony's Great-Aunt Rosa was from there, she remembered as she started her car. She would let Anthony know that someone from Aunt Rosa's hometown was in Shepherd Hills. Sharen was a small place where everybody knew everybody. It would be good for Anthony to connect with someone who most likely knew his roots.