Part 24 (1/2)
She glanced again at the story she'd created that afternoon. ”This story reflects Your love, G.o.d. I want so much to be able to help Petey take care of his brothers and sister. If it's Your will for me, let this story find acceptance so I can continue to use the writing abilities You gave me.”
[image]
On the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, Pete sat in the back of the courtroom with his mother. Beside Jackson, Oscar stood straight and proud in a new s.h.i.+rt and trousers, his hair freshly cut. He looked nothing like the bedraggled boy who'd curled on the cot in the bas.e.m.e.nt cell.
The judge, sober and stern in his black robe, peered down from his seat behind the bench. ”Young man, since you have pled guilty to attempted robbery, I sentence you to six months of hard labor, which will be served at the Missouri Penitentiary in Jefferson City.”
Oscar flicked a glance over his shoulder. Pete sent him a rea.s.suring nod, and he faced the judge again.
”I must also express my grat.i.tude that the truth concerning the murder charge made against you has been brought to light. You are a fortunate young man to have so many people fighting for you. It is my hope that you will emerge from this experience with the determination to be a law-abiding citizen, and will therefore prove that the trust offered by those who have given a.s.sistance is not ill placed.”
”Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
The judge rose, and Pete and Berta scrambled to their feet, as well. As the judge left, two officers approached from their post beside the bench, reaching for Oscar. Oscar drew back and threw a frantic look over his shoulder. Pete stumped forward as quickly as his peg leg would allow.
”Could we have a moment of time . . . to say good-bye?”
The officers glanced at each other and then one nodded. ”Five minutes.”
Berta rushed up and stretched her arms across the wooden bar to embrace Oscar. Copious tears rained down her thin face. ”Oh, Oscar . . .”
Oscar clung, burying his face in the curve of her shoulder. ”I'll be all right, Ma. Only six months. Won't be so long.”
”Me an' the young'uns'll write to you every day.” Berta shot a hesitant look at the closest officer. ”He'll be allowed letters from his family?”
The officer nodded. ”Yes, ma'am. His lawyer here can give you the address.”
Pulling loose, Berta cupped Oscar's face in her hands. ”See there? That'll give ya somethin' to look forward to each day-a letter from us. An' you write, too-keep up your writin' an' readin'. Who knows, maybe you'll get to go to a university one day, too, like your brother Petey.”
Pete stepped close and reached past his mother to clamp his hand over Oscar's shoulder. ”Mind your manners and do what you're told.”
Oscar nodded. ”I will.”
”I'll write, too, and I'll be counting down the days until you're free. Then we'll do something special together-just you and me.
Sound good?”
”Sounds real good, Pete.” Oscar ducked his head for a moment, then his gaze bounced back up to meet Pete's. ”Thank you for comin' to the jail. Thanks . . . for comin' back.”
Pete curled his hand around Oscar's neck and pulled him against his chest as tight as he could with the bar separating them. Oscar's temple connected with Pete's chin, his thick hair tickling his neck. Pete didn't want to let go, but the nearest officer cleared his throat and said, ”It's time.”
Pete handed Oscar to Berta for one more hug, and then they watched the officers escort Oscar through a door at the front of the room. Berta pressed her clenched hand to her mouth, and her body convulsed in silent sobs. Hesitantly, Pete lifted his arm and wrapped it around her thin shoulders. She didn't lean into him, but her face tipped upward, grat.i.tude in her tired eyes.
”We'd better go.” Jackson picked up his briefcase and turned stiffly toward the door. With one hand bracing his ribs, he gestured for Pete and Berta to precede him. Their footsteps echoed on the marble floor as they headed down the hallway together.
Outside, Jackson turned to Pete. ”Since your train to Chambers leaves three hours earlier than ours to Shay's Ford, I'll say my good-byes here.” He stuck out his hand, and Pete gave it a firm shake. ”Have a safe trip back.”
”I will. Thanks for . . .” How could Pete possible encapsulate all Jackson had done for his family in the past week? He shook his head. ”For everything everything, Jackson.”
Jackson grinned. ”My pleasure. I'm just glad it all turned out as well as it did.”
”Me too.”
”Will you come to Shay's Ford at the end of the week for Thanksgiving?”
Berta sent a hopeful look in Pete's direction when Jackson posed the question. As much as Pete wanted to go home for Thanksgiving- to make sure his siblings had settled in and spend time with Matt and Lorna and all the others-he'd been away from school too long. He'd need many days to catch up.
Reluctantly, he shook his head. ”I'm afraid not. One of my professors, Pastor Hines, said I could stay at his home if I ever needed a place, so I'll probably take him up on his offer and use the break to catch up on the cla.s.ses I missed while I've been here.” The disappointment sagging his mother's face p.r.i.c.ked his heart, so he added in a cheerful tone, ”But I'll be there for Christmas-you can count on it.”
”I think that's wise,” Jackson replied. ”Well . . .” He bounced his leather satchel against his leg and looked at Berta. ”Maelle is probably still at your apartment, helping the children pack for your move. Let's go there and finish up. That train will leave before we know it.”
But Berta remained rooted in place, her pleading eyes aimed at Pete's face. Pete knew what she wanted. What she needed. And he wished he could give it. But it was too soon. Maybe one day he'd find the ability to put his arms around his mother, to hold her close, but G.o.d needed to do a little more work on him before he was ready.
Giving her a smile, he said, ”You'll be in good hands with Aaron and Isabelle-they're some of the best people G.o.d ever planted on this earth.” He raised his hand in a wave. ”Bye now.”
Berta's lips trembled. ”Bye, Petey.” She turned and followed Jackson to the curb, where he flagged a cab. Pete waited until they climbed in and the cab clattered away before he turned toward the hotel. He'd retrieve his bag and then catch a cab to the train station. By this evening, he'd be back in Chambers. He'd only been gone a week, but it seemed like a year, so much had transpired in such a short amount of time.
Pausing on the busy sidewalk, Pete bowed his head and offered a silent, heartfelt prayer of thanks to G.o.d for His redeeming intervention. So many broken threads had been woven into place. Pete had emerged stronger, more determined to seek and follow G.o.d's will in every aspect of his life.
He opened his eyes and hitched forward, eager to return to Chambers and share with his two best friends all the miracles of the past week. Then his steps slowed, his enthusiasm waning. In order to share truthfully, he'd have to give G.o.d the glory. Would Bennett mockingly call the events happenstance? Would Libby's defensive ire flare-was she still annoyed that he'd sent her away? For a moment, he considered keeping all that had happened to himself rather than face their scorn.
But then he straightened his shoulders and hop-skipped to put himself in motion again. Whether they wanted to hear it or not, he'd tell them all that had happened. And he would give praise where praise was due.
The following morning Pete arose early, dressed, and met with Pastor Hines before breakfast. The man cheerfully agreed to host Pete for the Thanksgiving weekend and even offered to a.s.sist him with his missed a.s.signments.
”I'm glad to see you back, Mr. Leidig. I was half afraid you'd decided the work was too hard.”
Pete shook his head. ”No, sir. I'm determined to complete my divinity degree. G.o.d's called me to this task, and He's given me everything I need to see it through. So I aim to please Him with my efforts.”
”Good man.” The professor smacked Pete on the back. ”And I look forward to working with you. Head on to breakfast now-I'll see you in cla.s.s later.”
On his way to the dining hall, he stopped by Franklin Hall to retrieve Bennett, but to his surprise Bennett was already gone. His roommate was in the room, however. Winston blinked at Pete behind round, thick spectacles.
”I'm afraid you won't locate Bennett on the campus today. He left last night after packing a bag. When I questioned him, he said he had an imperative obligation to complete and he would return shortly.”
Pete doubted Bennett had used the words imperative obligation imperative obligation, but he thanked the skinny kid and went on to the dining hall. Maybe Bennett had talked to Libby. He hoped she'd be able to tell him where Bennett had gone.
He'd almost finished eating by the time Libby, accompanied by Alice-Marie, came in. His heart leapt when he spotted her, dressed in the soft brown two-piece suit Isabelle had chosen as her college outfit. He couldn't understand how a plain brown dress made her cheeks look so rosy and bright, but somehow it did. With her long dark hair tumbling across her shoulders and her sweet lips tipped into a soft smile, she was the prettiest woman on campus. Maybe on earth.
Pressing his hands on the tabletop, he rose. ”Libby!” Her head turned, seeking his voice, and when she spotted him her face broke into a smile of jubilation. She glided toward him, both hands reaching, and he took hold. The simple contact set his heart to banging around in his chest like a moth trying to escape a jar. He laughed just for the sheer joy of it.
”You're back!” She beamed at him. ”I didn't think I'd see you again before Thanksgiving. Is Jackson on his way to Shay's Ford? Did the police capture your father? Did Jackson manage to convince the judge of Oscar's innocence? How was Maelle-did you spend time with her?” Then she laughed, shaking her head. ”And if I don't stop yammering, you'll never get a chance to talk.”
Pulling loose, she waved her hands at him. ”Sit back down. Finish eating. I'll go get my own breakfast, and then-”
Pete glanced at the clock on the wall and groaned. ”I have a cla.s.s, Libby. Our talk will have to wait until lunchtime.”