A Promise to Remember (35 page)

Finally, Jake stood up. "Thanks for coming, everyone. As you
all know, it's been almost three months since Jeff changed his
address."

For a moment, Melanie had no idea what Jake meant, but it
dawned on her as he continued.

"I know his new home is beautiful and perfect. But I think
we can all agree that we are selfish enough to wish he were
back here, in this not so perfect and not always beautiful place.
Today we want to celebrate his memory once again. To take
time to reflect how his life touched ours. To give thanks to
God for giving us the time with him that we had. Who wants
to share first?"

Tony hopped to his feet. "I'll go." His Adam's apple bobbed,
and when he swallowed, he seemed to almost choke. He looked
down and worked his toe in the sand.

"Some of you've known me a long time. You already know what
a loser I was. I s'pose it's time the rest of you find out, too."

What an odd way to start a tribute to Jeff. Melanie leaned
back, her hands sinking in the sand.

"I started giving Jeff a hard time in junior high. I'm not sure
why I liked to pick on him so much, but for whatever reason
he became the chief target of all my pranks. I'd walk past him
on the sidewalk, try to push him into the mud."

Melanie's stomach began to churn. She remembered all the
days that Jeff had come home filthy. When she asked what
happened, the answer was never about Tony. It was always, "I
tripped," or "We were just messing around and I fell." Her own
son had been the victim of a bully and she'd never known it.

Tony looked at Melanie, then back at his feet. "In high school,
I even ripped up a term paper once."

Another memory. The year that Jeff's grade dropped from an A
to a C because he turned in his paper late. She knew he'd been
working on it and confronted him. "I just forgot to turn it in."

She spent twenty minutes lecturing him about carelessness
and how it would hurt his future dreams if he didn't get his act
together. If only she had known the truth. She would have comforted him, helped him. Gone to the teacher and explained.

Gotten that punk Tony expelled.

When she looked toward him this time, resentment began
to bloom. He was nothing at all like she had imagined him to
be. A big fat phony. Just like Jake.

"Then, one morning, a tow truck showed up at school. All
the kids were hanging around in the parking lot before classes
started, and right in front of everyone he repossesses my truck."
He looked around and licked his lips. "It was humiliating.

"That afternoon, I got a call from the tow yard saying I could
come get my truck. Somebody had paid off my debt. They
wouldn't tell me who did it at first, but I found out it was
Jeff.

"I went up to him at school and asked him what he thought
he was doing.

" 'I know things are hard for you right now. I saw a way to
help you, and I did it,' he says.

'But why?' I say.

" 'It's what Jesus would do.'

"That was it for me. I drew back my fist, ready to smash his
little do-gooder's face, but my muscles froze in place. I couldn't
move my arm. Jeff stood there, looking at me, waiting for the
blow to fall. I finally dropped my arm to my side, screamed at
him to get out of there, and I took off.

"I couldn't stop thinking about it. Something about that dweeb
really bothered me. Then I realized what it was. He had something I didn't. Peace.

"Every day for the next week, I waited for him after school
and we talked. Things began to change. Actually, things didn't
change at all-I changed. It took me three months to scrape
together the money to pay him back. He didn't want to take
it, but I made him." Tony offered a lopsided smile. "With less
violence than I'd made him do things in the past.

"My homelife still stinks, my old man's still in prison, and to
be honest, I'd just as soon that he stay there. My morn, though,
she's real glad that Jeff brought me around. Says she thanks
Jesus every day for Jeff." His voice cracked. "So do I."

He rubbed his face against his shoulder and looked up. "That's
all I got to say."

He returned to take his seat on the sand. The kids around
him pounded his back and whispered encouragement. He never
turned to look toward Melanie.

A blond girl stood up. "I was failing geometry freshman year.
Jeff spent hours with me. He never asked for anything in return. He was sick a lot that year, and I knew he didn't feel like
helping me, but he never complained." She sniffled once. "I'll
never forget him."

Melanie had a vague memory of Jeff tutoring a classmate,
but sick a lot that year,' Jeff hadn't been sick a lot freshman
year. What was this girl talking about?

Jeff's friend Dan stood up. "Um, well, Kathy, the reason he
was sick was because of you. He spent that whole semester trying to work up the nerve to ask you to a movie. Used to throw
up after every single tutoring session."

The whole crowd erupted in laughter. Kathy covered her face
with her hands-laughing or crying, Melanie couldn't tell.

Dan put his hands in his pockets. "As long as I'm up here, I'll
just tell you all that Jeff was one of the greatest guys I've ever
known. I miss him every day. He . . ." Dan stared at the ground and shook his head. "He was just great, that's all." He dropped
into the sand, his shoulders heaving with emotion.

A blond boy stood and said Jeff sat with him at lunch when
he was new to the school. Two girls, leaning on each other for
support, talked about how much they looked up to him as a
leader in the youth group. One of Sarah's friends talked about
how he was the only big brother they didn't mind being around.
A slim girl tried to make it through a poem. One after another,
they stood, and Melanie listened to them tell their stories of
how Jeff had touched them. Sometimes in life-changing ways.
Usually just with small kindnesses or a pleasant word. But friend
after friend, student after student, boy after girl, they all said the
same thing until Melanie swore she heard it echo in her soul.

"I'll never fovget him."

When the last student had shared, Jake said a final prayer in
memory, and the group began to break up. Melanie knew that
she should stay and say a few words of gratitude to the kids
who spoke, and to Jake for arranging it all. But, truth was, she
couldn't have spoken if her life had depended on it.

She stumbled down the sidewalk and away from the crowd.
She passed Stearns Wharf and suddenly couldn't walk any farther. She sat on the stone wall separating sidewalk from beach
and stared blindly toward the ocean.

How did any of this fit together in a sensible way? She reached
into her purse for a tissue and saw the yellow paper Sarah had
given her a few days ago. She picked it up.

How could the same people who would not sponsor this mission trip teach such great love, like she'd heard today? None of
it made any sense at all.

Andie woke up Saturday morning with a single thought: The
Fair had gone on without her yesterday. Early reports indicated it had been a success. She waited until nine o'clock and drove
to Christi's house.

Christi looked tired; she'd put in a long week preparing,
while Andie had been forced to stay out of sight. "Hey. How
did it go?"

"A hit, as usual. In fact, I talked to Carolyn late last night.
From preliminary numbers, it appears this has been our most
successful year ever."

Haw could this have happened? Without my help?

Christi's report should have been happy news. The fundraising effort for Andie's favorite charity had just finished its
most successful year. People would be helped, families comforted, advanced treatment given. ButAndie had spent the last
few years of her life convincing herself that these programs
needed her. She was the engine behind the machine, the thing
that kept it moving. Now she was faced with the reality. No
one needed her at all.

"Andie, you okay? You don't look so well." Christi's forehead
wrinkled in concern. The barely noticeable black circles under
her eyes hinted at her exhaustion. The Fair took a lot of work.

This was not the time to burden her with Andie's selfish
attitude. "I'm fine. I've got some things to do, so I'll be moving
along. Just wanted to check in."

"All right. See you tomorrow."

Easter Sunday. Alone. Somehow the thought didn't sound
appealing.

As she climbed into her car, Andie realized a week had passed
since she'd sat on the beach reenvisioning her life. So far, none
of those plans had played out. Her charity thrived without her,
her marriage was worse than ever, and she hadn't painted a
single thing since realizing how crucial it was to her. Pulling
out of Christi's driveway, she decided the only one she could do anything about at the moment was her painting. Sure it was
simple, but small steps were important.

Andie drove home and marched into her studio with purpose,
ready to start a new painting she could donate. But what? Mattie
Plendor's trip to Africa popped to mind, and Andie remembered
her own short mission trip to Cape Town years ago. She could
see a picture taking form inside her mind. I'm not sure if a painting would help her cause or not, but I've got to by it. She closed
her eyes and remembered the smells, the textures, the people
from her own two-week visit there.

Before she could start, she'd have to drive downtown to the
art supply store for a bigger canvas and a few new tubes of paint.
A half-hour later, she marveled at her luck when she found a
parking spot on Cabrillo, only four blocks from the paint store.
A good sign for a good day. She walked up the street, trying to
convince herself this was true.

"Andie, how long has it been?" Judy Frist stood behind the
counter of the supply store, her waist-length gray hair spilling
around her shoulders like a cape.

"Too long. I've made a commitment to get back at it."

"Atta girl. I'll do my part to keep you on track. What do you
need?"

"A canvas and I think a tube of ochre and one of cadmium
green ought to do it for today"

Judy's face drooped. "You can do better than that. Come
check out this new set of brushes we just got it in yesterday. I
tell you, the bristles are like a Van Gogh dream."

Andie shook her head. "My brushes are fine. Just a canvas
and the paints, please."

"Yeah, yeah." Judy loaded the items into a large plastic bag
with handles. "Anything else?"

"No, thanks. Great to see you again." After paying, Andie
pushed out the door with her bundle. She rounded the corner onto Cabrillo, and paused for a moment to look at one of Santa
Barbara's most famous landmarks-the dolphin fountain at
the entrance to Stearns Wharf. It was a favorite photo spot
for tourists and locals alike. Andie, Blair, and Chad had taken
their Christmas card picture in front of it one year. The memory
slammed her.

Chad had been a toddler, and Blair had taken the day off
work. They spent the day at the wharf, acting like tourists, asked
a passerby to take their picture in front of the fountain, and
then bought fresh lobster. Since the lobsterfeast was usually
considered a Christmas Eve and anniversary only treat, Blair
declared that day's picture would be the next year's Christmas
card, and therefore the purchase was perfectly legal.

Her eyes blurred, and she jerked her gaze away from the
fountain and its accompanying memories. She watched a group
of college students coming down the bike path on Rollerblades,
laughing and joking, then looked at the people seated on the
concrete wall that separated the bike path from the sidewalk.
A movement drew her attention. There, sitting on the wall.

The woman whipped her head back around toward the ocean,
but Andie had seen her. She had seen Andie. Once again, with
a bag in her hand.

Better get back to the car quickly.

Coward. Don't you have something you need to do about now?

Andie stopped. Could she really bring herself to do this?
God, if this is really what I'm supposed to do, then I want to do
it. But its really hard for me, and I don't want to mess things up
even more. Please show me the way.

The light at the corner turned green, and she crossed the
street, feeling she might have a stroke at any minute. She walked
behind the woman, who kept her head turned, and sat down
beside her. The woman looked over. Her face showed absolutely
no emotion.

By now, Andie could actually feel the blood moving from the
top to the bottom chamber of her heart. "I ... I'm sorry."

Melanie Johnston turned back toward the ocean and
shrugged.

Andie's instincts told her to stand, to run away. She'd done her
part, but she couldn't make herself move. "I had no idea Chad
would be driving that night. I would never have allowed it." She
leaned her bag against the wall and looked over her shoulder out
at the ocean. "I should have hidden the keys ... something ... I
don't know. Maybe I should have stayed home that night. There
are so many things I see now I could have done differently"