Endless Chain (43 page)

He circulated, accepting praise and good wishes from the adults and hugs from the children. Near the doorway into the hall he signalled Elisa, who was helping with the blindfolds.

“I’m going to my study to work on the next service,” he told her. “If you need help, come get me.”

“We’ll be fine. Ramon has promised to help me clean up.” Her smile was radiant. “It still seems a miracle.”

“It’s a season of miracles.” He kissed her cheek and didn’t care who saw him.

In his study, he lost himself immediately in preparations for the final Christmas Eve service. Although
Las Posadas
had been billed as the family service, the pre-teens and teens would participate in the next one as ushers and readers. The liturgical dancers would depict the nativity story as the choir sang a quartet of traditional Southern carols. A brass ensemble gathered from high-school band members and former musicians who had polished long-abandoned trumpets and French horns would provide the prelude and postlude.

He remembered the professional brass choir at The Savior’s Church, made up of members of the Atlanta Symphony and professors from area universities. The towering floral arrangements and Christmas tree provided by one of the city’s leading florists. The cantata written especially for the Chancel Choir—which accepted members by audition only.

Tonight the altar at Community would be adorned with fresh greens from Helen Henry’s farm, and a blue spruce donated by another member and scattered with white lights and gaily colored origami ornaments made by the children. The choir was made up of anyone who liked to sing, some more apt to stay on key than others.

He felt such a wave of love, of knowing he was in the right place here, of gratitude for the gift of Elisa and Ramon in his life, that he bowed his head in a prayer of thanksgiving.

At six-thirty a knock sounded on his door; then Leon, in a suit and tie, came into the room before Sam could invite him.

“Reverend Sam?”

Sam didn’t reproach him for walking right in. He didn’t have to search Leon’s face to see the boy was upset. He stood and came around his desk. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know. I’m…I’m not sure.” Leon shrugged.

Sam glanced at the clock. There wasn’t a lot of time before he needed to go to the sanctuary to make sure everything was ready. He had a meeting scheduled with the ushers in ten minutes. He needed to be certain the readers had their scripts. And his own reflections needed to be printed and put into a folder to use tonight.

“It’s my dad,” Leon said.

Sam focused on the boy. He wasn’t surprised this was about George. “You know I talked to him, like I promised. And I had a friend from the congregation call to try to persuade him to go to an AA meeting this afternoon. He refused, but I don’t think it’s hopeless. I think your father realizes he has to make a change. We’re going to keep after him as long as it seems helpful. We’re just going to have to give him a little time.”

Leon was fidgeting. “I talked to him, too. Not long ago. I…I called him from my cell phone. I just wanted…you know, to tell him I was okay.”

“That makes sense. I know you miss him. Are you having second thoughts about not going home?”

“No!” Leon ran a hand through his hair. “No, he was drunk when I called. I—” He looked torn. “He, well, he tried to tell me all this was your fault.”

Sam was sorry to hear that. Unfortunately, he could also hear the clock continuing to tick. “Let’s talk after the service. You can stay, and we’ll talk as long as you want, then I’ll take you back to Mrs. Fortman’s.”

“I don’t need to talk, but you need to listen.”

“I am listening.”

“He was making threats.”

This did not surprise Sam, either. George had begun making threats early in Sam’s ministry at Community. They had escalated steadily, but it only made sense that now, with Leon out of the house, George would be at his most desperate.

“He wants me out of the church,” Sam said, with no desire to go into details. Most likely Leon had already been privy to most of them. “I guess he’ll try to make his case with everybody who’ll listen, at least until he gets himself under control. But this isn’t something you need to worry about. People here care about your dad, but they also understand his life is in turmoil. They’re going to discount a lot of what he says. Just take care of
yourself
now.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“What was it like?” Sam sounded more patient than he felt.

“He said stuff about having proof, about catching you good.”

“He said something not long ago about folks not wanting anyone else to tell them how to raise their kids. And I’m sure that’s true, but in this case I think people will understand why you’re living somewhere else, don’t you?”

Leon bit his lip. “I guess.”

“I’ll say it again. Take care of yourself. I promise I’ll be fine. You look very nice, by the way. Are you going to usher with the Fortman boys?”

“I’m supposed to lead the little kids in to light the candles. I get to carry the fire extinguisher.”

Sam put his arm around Leon’s shoulder and pulled him to his side in a rough hug. “You’re going to get through this. I promise. I think your dad’s going to come round. I think he’ll go for help, but even if he doesn’t, we’ll see you through this. You’re going to be okay.”

“A lot of what he said didn’t make sense, I guess,” Leon said, as Sam walked him to the door.

“Alcoholism’s a disease, and that’s one of the symptoms.”

“Yeah, I guess. He was talking about Diego, you know, his foreman? And something about Guatemala. It didn’t mean anything to me. He was just talking crazy.”

S
am didn’t need divine interpretation to understand what George’s alcoholic rumblings had meant. Only moments ago he’d said a prayer of thanksgiving. Now, as he hurried through the building to find Elisa, he prayed again. Someone, one of Jenkins’ crew, perhaps a Guatemalan himself, had viewed Elisa and Ramon together, had even heard her call her brother by his real name, and had made the connection. When Ramon left abruptly, the worker had told Diego, and Diego, seething because Adoncia had given him back his ring, had seen an opportunity for revenge.

Diego had gone to George Jenkins, whose need for vengeance was even deeper and more complex.

As he searched for Elisa, Sam was forced to greet members who were arriving for the service. He didn’t want to appear upset, but he cut short conversations in a way he normally wouldn’t have done. He managed to smile as he hurried on, but inside, he was in turmoil.

The church was large enough that it was possible for him to miss Elisa just by taking the wrong stairs or slipping into a room when she was in the hallway. He was aware of time passing quickly, of a need to be upstairs in the sanctuary, and still he searched.

He found her at last, downstairs in the Sunday school storage area. She was just coming out, and he nearly bumped into her. Ramon exited behind her.

“Sam? We were just coming up. The service is about to start. You don’t even have your robe on.”

Without preamble, he said, “I’m almost certain you’ve been recognized and reported to the police. You and Ramon need to get out of here right away. Go to Tessa’s house, in Fairfax. Mack will know what you should do next.”

In the dim basement light, her eyes widened. “But I don’t know where she lives. I’ve never been there.”

He fished in his pocket. “Doesn’t matter. Take the keys to my SUV, in case they know what you’ve been driving. Just get in the car and get out on I-81 north, then 66. There should be a map in the glove compartment if you need one. Once you get close to Fairfax, find a motel or a restaurant if anything’s open tonight, and sit tight. Take my cell phone.” He put the keys and the phone in her hand, wrapping her fingers around them. “Do you need money?”

“I have money.”

He felt her hand tremble, and for a moment, he held on. “I’ll call as soon as the service is over and everybody’s gone. I’ll have directions for you by then, and I’ll alert the MacRaes. If Mack wants you to go somewhere else, he’ll tell me. Go. There are still people in the parking lot. You won’t be noticed. Just get going now.”

He pulled her to him and kissed her. Then he grabbed Ramon’s shoulder and squeezed. “We’ll work this out. I promise. Mack will know exactly what to do next.”

“They’re going to question you. They’ll know you helped me escape.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he repeated. “Listen, Elisa, this is no time to argue. What’s done is done. We’ve got to make the best of this. Get going.” He looked at Ramon. “Get her to the car, okay? I don’t know how fast these things happen, but the police or the marshals could be on their way here. It’s unlikely, but it’s possible.”

She cradled his face in her hands and kissed him; then she started down the hall. They were at the stairs before he realized he couldn’t let them go out to the lot alone, not even if it meant he would be late starting the service. He ran up the stairs behind them, and once they were all in the hallway, he pointed to the side door closest to the staff parking spaces. With five minutes until the service, people in the holiday spirit were still milling around chatting, and Sam pretended he was seeing friends off for the holiday.

“You have a good trip,” he said just loudly enough that anyone listening could hear him. “You deserve a break, Elisa. We’ll manage fine without you. Enjoy time with your cousin.”

He opened the side door just in time to see two dark sedans with flashing blue lights pull into the lot.

Elisa had always known it would come to this. From the moment she had escaped the men who killed her husband, from the moment she had sent her brother on a different path to save his life, from the moment she had paid for a passport and green card to enter a country of which she was already a citizen, she had known her flight would end this way. Perhaps not as publicly, certainly not with the man she loved standing beside her.

But she had known.

“We have a chance now,” she said softly. “Ramon and I are together. We have the same story to tell. We can speak, knowing we will not endanger each other, that for the moment we are still safe. We can speak as one voice. There may be other people who know the truth and have enough courage to stand beside us.”

Sam put his hand on her shoulder. “Go into the sanctuary, Elisa. Ramon, you, too. We’re having a Christmas Eve service. That’s where all of us should be.”

She didn’t want to cause any more problems for Sam. She stepped toward the door, but he anchored her where she was. “This is God’s house,” he reminded her.

“Sam…”

He was staring at the cars. Doors opened and men emerged. In the lone light at the edge of the grass, she could see that they wore identical blue jackets.

Sam spoke without taking his eyes off them. “‘Judge me, O God, and plead my cause against an ungodly nation: O deliver me from the deceitful and unjust man. For thou
art
the God of my strength: why dost thou cast me off? Why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy? O send out thy light and thy truth: let them lead me; let them bring me unto thy holy hill, and to thy tabernacles. Then will I go unto the altar of God, unto God my exceeding joy: yea, upon the harp will I praise thee, O God my God.’”

He turned to her. “We’re having a Christmas Eve service. Tonight we’ll go unto the altar and praise God, as the psalm says. We’ll celebrate the birth of the greatest advocate of peace and goodwill the world’s ever known. Come with me.”

“They will come, too.”

“So be it.”

She understood then what he planned to do. He did not want the arrest to happen quietly in the dim light of the parking lot. He wanted the congregation to know. He wanted the world to know. Deceit and lies flourished in darkness and silence. And until now, because of her fear for Ramon, she had wrapped herself in both.

She thought of the other man she had loved. Gabrio had given his life to bring a horrible wrong in her country’s past into the light. No matter the danger, her husband had never been silent. Her parents had spoken out, and they, too, had died because of it. Sharon Wisner, who had been baptized in this church. Roberto Estrada, who had raised his daughter and son to believe in the rights of all people.

If she gave in to the silence and the darkness now, she dishonored all of them.

She watched as Sam locked the door, then spun around. “Let’s go.”

One locked door would only delay the men. She turned to her brother and found he was no longer beside her. He was striding after Sam.

She was afraid for these two. She was not so afraid for herself. As she hesitated, she realized she would be more afraid for all of them if they simply let the struggle end so quietly.

She caught up and put her hand on Sam’s arm. “Don’t fight back,” she said. “They are going to win. But they will not win without cost.”

They turned into the hall leading to the sanctuary. She saw that the doors were open, that the ushers were in place, that the brass ensemble was in the front waiting for Sam and the choir to process.

Andy was the first to spot Sam, and he hurried to meet him.

“You’re late, for Pete’s sake. The biggest service of the year, too. And where’s your robe?” He glanced at Elisa and Ramon, and frowned.

Sam didn’t answer. He stopped in the doorway and swept the sanctuary with his hand. “Elisa, Ramon, please go in and sit down.” He finally turned his attention to his choir director. “There’s been a change. Signal the ensemble, then begin the processional without me.”

“Are you kidding? After all the rehearsing we did?”

“Not kidding. Do it. Now, please.”

Andy shrugged, but he moved to the center of the doorway where the ensemble could see him and gave the signal. The choir assembled into two lines, waiting for the introduction to end.

Elisa and Ramon waited until he was done speaking. Tears in her eyes, she kissed Sam, then she took her brother’s hand and went into the service.

The sanctuary was crowded, but she found two cramped spaces at the end of a pew in the middle of the room. She could smell pine and cedar and the melting wax of candles that had been set around the room. Frost adorned the windowpanes, which seemed to wobble under the power of trumpets, horns and voices raised in adoration.

The choir moved in slowly, singing “O Come All Ye Faithful.” She had learned the carol in Spanish, of course, but she stood as they moved past her, along with the others in her row, and sang it that way, not caring that her words were different from those around her. She looked at Ramon, who was paler than she wanted to see him, but he was singing in Spanish, too.

When the carol finished, the choir was standing in front of the altar in rows. Sam was not there to tell the congregation to sit. But as everyone continued to stand, he walked up the aisle, not quite into the center of the room and held out his arms.

“And she brought forth her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger because there was no room for them in the inn.” He was silent for a moment. “Because there was no room at the inn. Can you imagine? No room for a mother about to give birth. No room for her husband, who wants only to make her comfortable. No room for a tiny baby.

“Our children imagined it this afternoon. Some of you were here for
Las Posadas.
Our children wanted to know why the Holy family was turned away time and time again. I told them it’s a story of welcoming strangers into our midst, of providing for them, of giving comfort even when we are afraid.

“Of course, we don’t know if that really happened, do we? We’re relying on a man named Luke to tell us this story, and we know for a fact that he lived well after Jesus and got his information from other sources.

“But it’s a good story nonetheless, isn’t it? Even if it never happened quite this way. The Bible is filled with wonderful stories. Sometimes we get so caught up in proving they really happened, we forget their meaning. And let me tell you, as our children figured out, this particular story is heavy with meaning. A man, a woman, an unborn child. Turned away because there was no room. Room in the inn, room in our hearts…” He turned up his hands.

“Did you know that Luke was the only gospel author who told the story of Jesus’s birth from Mary’s point of view? He was also the narrator who acquainted us with Martha and a woman called Mary of Magdalene, who today some call the mystery woman of the New Testament. Through Luke we learned of Joanna, Susanna and other women he never mentions by name.

“He was a man who gave women their due in a time when few did. He was also a man with a joyous soul, our Luke, a man of poetry, a man filled with the Holy Spirit. Most likely he was a gentile, perhaps a doctor, certainly a man who believed in human rights. Only Luke tells us the story of the Good Samaritan. He showed us a Jesus who reached out to everybody, rich and poor, Jew and gentile, male and female. He tells us not kings but shepherds were the first to see the holy child after his birth.”

There was a noise in the back of the room. Elisa closed her eyes.

“Luke wanted us to believe in a world filled with spirit, a world where the good we do is as important as the good we believe in. Luke, in his telling of the birth of Jesus, asked each of us to open our heart, to make room for strangers, to believe that the poor are as deserving as the rich.”

“They’re here,” Ramon said softly beside her.

She took his hand. “Yes, I know.”

“We learn from Luke that a humble stable was the home of God on that blessed night,” Sam said.

Elisa opened her eyes and turned to watch him. He moved toward the back of the room. A buzzing began in the pews around her. Others were turning, too.

Sam stood at the double doors into the sanctuary. “On this blessed night,” he said in a voice that carried to every corner of the room, “
this
is God’s home. And we have room, we will
always
have room here, for anyone who needs us, but only for those who come in peace.”

The room was suddenly so still that Elisa thought she could hear the candles flicker. A man stepped forward. Elisa could see that he wore a blue jacket. He kept his voice low, but his words penetrated the silence. “Pastor, finish your service. We’ll wait.”

Sam did not move away or turn. “These men are here to arrest two of our friends. Elisa, our sexton, who most of you know, and her brother, Ramon, are accused of a murder in Guatemala. Elisa’s own husband was the victim, a man who spoke loudly and clearly for human rights. Gabrio Santos was killed for the terror he wanted to expose and the rights he espoused.

“They have only recently been reunited after searching for each other for three traumatic years. They were supposed to be victims themselves, but they escaped, and because they did, they are here with us tonight. Elisa and Ramon came to Toms Brook not by accident, but because they are the grandchildren of one of our former ministers, Alfred Wisner.”