A Storybook Finish (7 page)

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in a fundraising assembly and trying to keep their attention at

the same time.

All at once, a burly student rode up on a mountain bike,

performed a wheelie and brought the bike to a screeching halt

in front of the group. Lindsay couldn’t help but gape at the

new arrival. The student was none other than Robbie, the one

she had nicknamed Brutus for his muscular build and temperament

like the villain in the cartoon Popeye. He parked

the bike in the rack, chained it, and strode over.

“I don’t have you down for this trip, Robbie,” Jeff said.

“Yeah, I just found out about it.” His gaze darted to where

Jewel and Troy were standing. “I love history, Mr. Wheeler. I’d

sure like to go if you have the room.”

“We did have a student call in sick. If you want to go …”

Lindsay could see the distress contorting Jewel’s youthful

face. “Are you sure you want to do that?” Lindsay said to

Robbie. Both Jeff and Robbie whirled to face her. “We’re just

going to see dumb monuments and boring paintings. Cultural

stuff, you know.”

“Miss Thomas–” Jeff started, the anger evident in his voice.

Lindsay ignored him. “Besides, I hear they’re having some

kind of sporting contest in the park today. The Fall Fling.

Looks as if you might walk away with the grand prize, Robbie,

if you head over there.”

Robbie glanced at Jewel who began twisting a small curl of

hair around one finger. “Naw, I want to come.”

Lindsay frowned. Obviously, the guy had one particular

monument in mind, and it wasn’t made of stone.

Jeff ushered the students into the awaiting van. While they

were settling in, he faced Lindsay. His blue eyes snapped like

the flame erupting on a propane burner. “I hope the kind of

58 advice you’re giving out today is not what I have to look forward

to on this trip. I want my class excited about where we’re

going. You’re telling them it’s going to be boring.”

“I didn’t want Brutus tagging along,” she whispered fiercely.

“That’s all.”

“Brutus? What are you talking about? Who’s Brutus?”

“Call it woman’s intuition, but I think you’re making a mistake

by inviting Robbie on the trip.”

“What? Ridiculous.” He stole a glance inside the van. The

students sat in their seats, waiting for the trip to commence.

Robbie, a.k.a. Brutus, sat in his own seat in the rear of the van

with an expectant look on his face.

“Come on,” Jeff told her, frowning. “We have a long way

to go.”

Lindsay took a seat beside Jewel while offering the front

passenger seat to Troy. “That way you guys can discuss history,”

she said. Jewel seemed disappointed by the arrangement

but said nothing. Along the way Lindsay tried to make small

talk with her, but it was clear she wanted Troy beside her on

every part of the trip. In the rear of the van, Robbie cast

furtive glances in her direction. No doubt he was itching to

occupy the seat Lindsay held. This is like a three-ring circus, she

mused. Everyone is trying to get in on the act. I only pray that

everything comes out right in the end.

Sleek, marble structures loomed above the school group when

they emerged from the subway tunnel deep beneath the city

of Washington, D.C. Students jabbered away with each other

while Jeff scanned a map of the city.

Lindsay gazed in awe at the immense buildings towering

above her. Being country bred, she rarely ventured into the city

59 realms. The fast-paced life, coupled with untold dangers lurking

in every corner, kept her away. She sucked in the exhaust

fumes of passing cars. The music of city life filled the air, with

horns tooting from impatient drivers, accompanied by the

loud rumble of construction equipment.

A student quipped that Washington, D.C., was forever

building and refurbishing. Many of the museums had received

face-lifts in recent years. Lindsay overheard Jeff say

they would be unable to tour the National Archives because

of its impending renovation project. “And that means we can’t

see the Declaration of Independence or the Constitution,” he

had moaned in dismay.

“All right, everyone. It’s several blocks to the Library of

Congress.” Jeff proceeded in the direction of the building,

followed

by the flock of students, with Lindsay in the middle of

the group. He pointed out the buildings they passed along the

way, including the governmental offices. On the left rose the

Capitol dome with Lady Liberty perched on top.

“Will we see the Capitol?” Lindsay asked Jewel.

“Of course. The Capitol is one of Mr. Wheeler’s favorite

places.”

“I notice he’s carrying a tour book. Guess that will tell us

everything we need to know.”

“It’s one of those religious tour books,” Troy pointed out. “I

don’t know why Mr. Wheeler has to use it. I found him a

bunch of good stuff over the Internet, but he still brings that

thing along.”

Lindsay raised an eyebrow at Troy’s obvious disdain for the

guide. “I’m sure it’s very good and probably quite accurate.”

His feet scuffed the sidewalk. “Yeah, but who cares that the

buildings have stuff about God on them? I don’t believe

60 there’s a God anyway. This world is too messed up. When you

see all the problems in the world—the terrorism, the wars,

kids getting beat up or murdered—I don’t understand why a

God would allow it to happen and not do anything about it.

Either God doesn’t exist, or He doesn’t care.”

Lindsay gave a quick glance at Jewel who remained

silent. Did she feel the same way? “I know there’s a God, Troy. I

don’t know why He lets evil run its course in this world, but I

do know He cares about us. And it’s obvious the people who

came to this country believed in Him too. Mr. Wheeler told

me that way on top of the Washington Monument,” she

paused, turned, and pointed in the direction of the slim monument

reaching to the clear blue sky above, “there’s a saying

that proclaims God. Somebody believed He exists, and they

wanted that fact shouted to the whole world.”

Troy said nothing. Instead he talked to Jewel about the new

rock group hitting the top of the charts. Lindsay retreated

from them and began praying for Troy, Jewel, and the other

students. She prayed that Jeff and she, along with his tour

book, might open the students’ eyes to see more than just

monuments and buildings, but a God who fashioned a nation

and cared about them personally.

Lindsay gulped. What was she thinking? Pray that she and

Jeff would help these students? That’s crazy. We barely get along.

Yet, from her vantage point, Lindsay could see the blue book

Jeff held in his hand, or “the religious tour book,” as Troy put

it. They did have one thing in common. Christianity. Lindsay

decided to put everything else aside and concentrate instead

on what the day might bring. Lord, open these young people’s eyes

to see You. And if You want to use Jeff and me in the process,

please

help us get along.

61 At last the group entered the large halls comprising the

Library of Congress. Lindsay learned of the many books

found there, from those written on ancient papyrus to works

stored on microform. Jeff appeared animated as he led the

group to a large case that held one of only three special Bibles

left in the world. Lindsay discovered the Bible to be an original,

printed on the famous Gutenberg printing press in

Europe. Many of the students crowded around for a look,

including Jewel. Robbie was at her side, reading the plaque

along with her. Troy stayed in the background, quietly observing

the paintings and sculptures. Jeff gave a small lecture to

the group about the importance of Johann Gutenberg’s invention

of the printing press and its ability to print the very first

Bibles. This helped spread Christianity throughout Europe.

The group then entered the great hall, decorated in breathtaking

mosaic work and statues that gleamed like fine

mother-of-pearl. The architecture itself reminded Lindsay of

the interior of a fairy-tale castle. If it were not for the trip’s

importance, she might have imagined herself a princess in a

velvet and jeweled gown, waiting on the staircase to meet her

prince. Lindsay stared in awe at the surroundings, unaware

that the group had left her behind until she heard Jeff’s voice

calling to her from the staircase above.

“I hope you intend to keep up with us, Miss Thomas. I don’t

want to have to send the students out searching for you.”

Lindsay looked up to find him on the top landing with his

hands spread out across the banister, staring down disapprovingly.

“Sorry.” She mounted the stairs. “I’ve never seen such a

beautiful hall. I’m not much into art, you know, but the

mosaics are wonderful. To think that tiny colored tiles were

placed in such a fashion to create these pictures. Can you

62 imagine the work that went into them, the care and the precision?

It’s incredible. And when I think of the time I take to

set up a measly fundraising program—trying to juggle everything

so the program comes out right—I think that in itself is

a work of art. This, though, is true beauty that goes beyond

description.”

Jeff stood frozen in place, staring at her with an intensity

that sent a chill racing through her. What could his blue eyes

be conveying? A simple acknowledgment perhaps? A measure

of understanding? Surely they couldn’t mean anything else.

Lindsay moved off into the museum where the students were

looking over John Smith’s map of the New World, a rough

draft of the Declaration of Independence written in Thomas

Jefferson’s own hand, Alexander Graham Bell’s drawing of

the telephone, and other rare documents.

Lindsay then left the fantasy and wonder of the Library

of Congress for the United States Capitol. Again, she was

amazed by the immensity of the rotunda where she stood. All

around the huge circular room were paintings depicting

America’s roots. Jeff took the students to each painting and

explained its significance. Lindsay saw Pocahontas being baptized,

the Pilgrims praying before their voyage to Plymouth

in the New World, and John Trumbull’s famous painting of

the Declaration of Independence. At each one, Jeff shared

both the historical and religious significance. Lindsay found

herself enjoying his teaching style. She wished she had

brought along a tape recorder to capture the moment and play

it back when she had more time to ponder it all.

“What do you think of having a painting like that in our

Capitol?” Lindsay commented to Troy and Jewel who stood

off by themselves, examining the painting of the Pilgrims in

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prayer, with an open Bible before them.

“It belongs in Plymouth where they landed,” Troy said.

“I think it shows their reliance on God, don’t you? Can you

imagine crossing thousands of miles of ocean through storms

in some rickety ship, wondering if you would survive?”

Lindsay turned. “And over there, those paintings of the

Revolutionary War. You were just studying that time period.

How do you think brave men went against a great king like

the king of England to gain their freedom? You heard what

Mr. Wheeler said. They had to put their trust in God. They

could do such incredible things because of their faith.”

“Yeah, but they did those kinds of things back then,” Troy

retorted. “They were all Bible thumpers. Nobody does it now.”

“I beg to differ,” Jeff said, coming up behind them. The

threesome whirled at the sound of his voice. “Did you know

that here, today, is a chaplain in the Senate who prays before

each session? He prays that God will guide the men and

women in their decision-making for the sake of the country.

Did you know many Bible studies go on in the Capitol?

Many individuals in government keep their trust in God,

even in a day of modern conveniences.” Jeff blew out a sigh.

“We have it so easy nowadays. Look at us. We have cars to

take us wherever we want to go. We have instant meals. We

have fast communications and computers that spit out what

we need. We don’t even have to pick up a pen anymore. We

are a society that doesn’t need God because we’ve built a society

based on man. These people,” Jeff paused, gesturing to the

paintings, “they had nothing but God to help them overcome

their problems. God was the very lifeline of their existence.”

Lindsay stood still and quiet, amazed by the truth spilling

out of Jeff’s mouth. It seemed unbelievable that this was the

64 same man who barely offered her an introduction before the

school assembly. A new JeffWheeler had appeared before her

eyes, one who spoke with authority and power. No longer was

he a simple history teacher, but a man full of wisdom and a

heart for the things of God.

After this, the students toured the rest of the Capitol, including

the Senate and House chambers. They made thoughtful

observations before heading over to one of the Smithsonian

museum cafeterias for lunch.

When Lindsay had selected her lunch, she stood with the

tray in her hands, trying to decide where to sit. The students

found tables together where they shared about the things

happening in their young lives. Jeff sat alone at a far table

with his nose buried in the Christian tour guide. Lindsay

boldly marched over and placed her club sandwich and spring

water opposite him. He peeked over the book with eyes the

color of a deep mountain lake. Then he put the book down,

bent over his ham sandwich, and began eating.

“Looks like the students want to eat on their own without

us adults hanging over them,” Lindsay said.

Jeff said nothing. Lindsay offered a silent prayer for her

food before looking at her sandwich. She sincerely hoped this

wouldn’t be one of those luncheons where people sat stonefaced

with fidgety fingers, wondering what words to say that

would not offend the other person. It reminded her of stuffy

get-togethers with relatives at holiday time. She would sit in

her fancy dress, waiting for someone to engage her in meaningful

conversation. After enduring it all as a youth, Lindsay

made it a point to get the conversation going, no matter what.

“That was quite a speech you gave in the rotunda today.”

She unfolded a napkin and placed it in her lap.

65 He stiffened at her words.

Oh, no. I’ve said the wrong thing already, and I’ve only been

seated here one minute.

“If it was meant to be a speech, I would have gone into politics,”

he said. “It was supposed to be a history lesson.”

“I know that. I only meant it was very moving. Did you see

how the students hardly even whispered after that?”

… Jeff’s gaze left her and traveled to the other tables where

the students ate their lunches. Lindsay followed his lead to find

Jewel and Troy at the table. Robbie sat with them, appearing

to monopolize the conversation. Lindsay inhaled a sharp

breath. I’m sure nothing good will come of that meeting.

Jeff’s voice broke the silence. “I feel sorry for a lot of these

young people. Many of them have never set foot in a church.

Troy tells me his father was a drunk. No wonder they end up

the way they do. They try to find what they’re looking for in

music, relationships, even substance abuse. They don’t know

that what they’re seeking is staring them straight in the face,

like the painting of the Pilgrims praying to God before their

voyage. You tell them the truth, but it doesn’t seem to sink in.”

Jeff leaned forward in a move that startled Lindsay. “If only

they could look at the paintings in the rotunda and get a

vision for themselves. They can reach higher and go further

with God on their side. That’s what I’m trying to show them,

Lindsay, if only they would open their eyes.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of her name floating

from his lips. It came forth in such tender fashion, as if he truly

wanted her to understand the burdens he carried. Perhaps he

never had an opportunity to share his vision with anyone.

Jeff sat back abruptly, picked up a straw, and jammed it into

the drinking cup. “Well, it doesn’t matter. No one wants to

66 hear the truth. The teachers accuse me of mixing religion and

a public institution. I have committed the ultimate crime in

my profession, indoctrinating students with the Bible. I’m

telling them that Someone cares about them. It might actually

change them for the better. They say it’s the worst thing I

can possibly do.”

Lindsay chuckled at the sarcasm in his voice. His gaze fell

on her face. “The Bible has become pretty dangerous these

days,” she agreed. “No wonder Scripture speaks of the Word as

sharper than a two-edged sword. It’s just a book; yet no one

dares come near it. It must be a powerful tool, simply by the

negative reaction you receive.”

His blue eyes misted over, like a fog muting a once brilliant

autumn sky. “You do understand, don’t you? I had a feeling

you did. I heard you talking to Troy and Jewel in front of the

Pilgrim painting. I knew you had to be a Christian.”

fes to understanding Christianity but if you mean history I

know nothing. I’m learning more on this trip than I ever did in

four years of high school history. I wish you could have taken

all your classes on this trip. They would have learned a lot.”

I do too. But if the school board were to find out how I’m

shoving religion down these students’ throats, they would

probably throw me out.”

“Then why are you doing it with these students in particular.

“They all love history. Many have shown an interest in

possibly becoming history majors in college. I’m showing

them another version of history besides the kind I have to

follow in the school. I want them to know that a greater

hand lies behind all this history. During a lesson about the

American Revolution, when I speak about a fog that suddenly

overshadows the East River in Manhattan, allowing