Gifts and Consequences (26 page)

“If someone like Marcus had the resources I do, just think what he could accomplish.”

For the first time, the feeling of helplessness in Susan’s presence faded.  “I’ve been doing it all wrong, Susan.  It’s time to make some changes.”

After giving Susan a kiss on the forehead, Jonathan placed the daisy in the vase next to her bed and walked out.

Jonathan sat alone in an extra room of the church where Susan’s funeral would be held.  When the viewing ended the night before, he personally shut the casket after one last look at Susan’s preserved face.  He didn’t know what happened after death, but in Susan’s case it had to be something.  She was too full of life to simply cease to exist.

Growing up, Jonathan had prided himself on never crying or showing emotion.  He saw it as weakness.  But the previous three years and especially the previous four months showed him exactly how weak he was. 

Someone entered the room behind him.  Jonathan turned his head and saw Dexter Wilkinson. 

“Tracy’s planning out her last semester,” he told Jonathan, taking a seat next to him.  “Thank you.”

Jonathan cleared his throat.  “You did it, not me.”

“I almost didn’t make it.  One day in particular I started to walk out—”

“And you met Macy’s father,” interrupted Jonathan.

Dexter’s mouth hung open in surprise.  He closed it and nodded, “I should have known.  So you know I went to Camille’s grave and made amends that were seventeen years overdue.”  Now it was Dexter’s turn to pause and let his emotions pass.  “Without all of this I would have kept on living with her death.”

“People usually end up solving their own issues if we give them a chance,” replied Jonathan.  “But like I said, you did it, not me.”

Dexter nodded.  “I can’t express how sorry I am you’ve lost your wife.”

Jonathan realized how odd it was that Dexter should be there.  Even though he worked at the cemetery where Susan would be laid to rest, he had no reason to show up at the funeral.

He noticed Jonathan’s confusion.  “Your assistant told me about your wife,” said Dexter.

The pair sat in silence for a minute then Dexter added, “I had a vacation scheduled for today.  Dru and I were going to drive up to New York to visit Trace.  But when I told her the story she agreed I should cancel our plans and come in.  I went in early to dig so I could make it here on time.”

Dexter stood and shook Jonathan’s hand.  “She’s waiting in the chapel for me.” 

Jonathan nodded and Dexter walked out. 

When the door opened, a quiet buzz entered the room where Jonathan waited.  He’d delayed going into the chapel as long as he could. 

In the vestibule, dozens of people filed into the chapel, but one familiar group was stationary, each holding a white daisy.  Bob, Barsaat, Britney, Katherine, Cheryl, Jared, Ken, Eileen, Casey, Will, and Annaya.  Marcus was conspicuously absent.    

Jonathan tried shaking hands, but ended up embracing each of them for the first time in the years he’d known them.  Their support made the tears well up all over again.

“If you’re all here, who’s in Control?” he asked. 

“Not you,” answered Bob, and the group chuckled. 

“We drew straws to see who had to stay,” said Katherine.  Predictably she wore a black sweater.  “The new girl lost.  I think she was the only one who didn’t cheat.” 

Marcus came in a minute later looking like a professional football player turned commentator in his black on black suit.  They hadn’t spoken since the incident with Tony Warr.

“Thanks for coming, Marcus,” said Jonathan, disappearing into a bear hug.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I brought a few people.”

Jonathan looked past Marcus into the parking lot.  Three charter buses were lined up with people pouring out of each one.  He recognized the faces, but they appeared out of place together in person.  He’d only seen them all together on the wall of his office with white frames around their pictures. 

A black car pulled up behind the buses and the driver got out to open the back door.  Sylvester Prime, dressed in slacks and a suit coat, got out of the car.  Kiersten took his arm as they walked toward the mortuary and held it despite his attempts to shake her off.

As the people from the buses got closer, Jonathan saw that each one carried a single white daisy.  The first one through the door was Anita Holmes, a single mother who had given up drugs and alcohol in exchange for tuition to a private school for her son. 

Right behind her was Jennifer Daley.  Last year Jonathan covered her son’s medical expenses for his leukemia treatment in exchange for a decade of volunteer work at the Children’s Hospital. 

Roberto Vasquez, Pete Anderson, Debbie Reese.  Jonathan knew every face and every story.

The flow into the chapel slowed as it reached capacity, but there were still a hundred people or more waiting to go in.  Jonathan walked to where he could see into the room.  The few vases placed across the front of the chapel filled quickly as each person placed the flower they carried.  When there was no more room they started inserting the flowers into other flower arrangements and laying them on top of the casket.

The stream of mourners continued to pack the chapel.  The vases filled quickly and the excess flowers were spread across the front of the chapel: on the floor in front of the casket, on top of the casket, anywhere people could find a level surface.

How in the world? 
Jonathan turned to look at his crew and a couple of them furtively pointed at Marcus. 

Minutes passed as people continued to file past him into the chapel.  “Every project we’ve ever done must be here,” said Jonathan in awe.  “How did you pull this off?”

“I hope you don’t mind,” said Marcus.  “But I’ve had a lot of free time over the last couple weeks.  And I had some help.”  He indicated the techs.  “There was a handful that didn’t come, but we got almost everyone.  Four hundred and twelve.  Once we told them about Susan they were happy to come.  We just explained that she was the benefactor and you were just the negotiator.”

Jonathan thought for a moment.  “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

From inside the chapel, Jonathan heard the funeral director ask everyone to sit closely to accommodate the large crowd, but there still wasn’t room for everyone.  People stood in the back and trailed out the doors into the vestibule.

By the time everyone was situated they were running more than half an hour late.  The only speaker on the program was Jonathan, followed by open time for friends to say a word or two. 

As Jonathan stood behind the oak pulpit in his black suit and black tie, he paused a minute to take in the sight in front of him.  Nearly every face he looked at was a life that Susan had changed, through him, forever.  The pile of white flowers with green stems created a garden-like atmosphere all around the pulpit and podium, and the casket was covered with them.

“White daisies are Susan’s favorite,” he told the congregation.  “She and her sister, Mary, used to pick them from the neighbor’s yard.  They would get in so much trouble.”

He grinned at the memory of their nightly ritual.  “I had a speech prepared about Susan’s kindness and selflessness.  About what she meant to me and how hard it is to lose her.  But I think all of you assembled here are a much better testimony to her amazing spirit.  I just want to share one short story from Susan’s life.

“Susan and I met on a blind date in college.  I took her to a cheap Italian restaurant and ordered spaghetti.  Just a few bites into the meal I got a spot of sauce on my cheek, but was completely oblivious.  Susan allowed me a few more bites to catch it, but I still had no clue it was there.

“I’ll never forget.  She said my name, reached over and wiped the smudge away, and did it in a way that didn’t make me embarrassed or self-conscious.  She was considerate and gracious enough to put herself in an awkward situation to help me avoid looking like a fool.  I felt the kindness that filled her as she touched my cheek, and that was the moment I fell in love with her.”

Jonathan paused and thought back over all the years they had continued to mimic their first real touch.  Six weeks ago in her room it had been the last connection they ever made.

“I’m going to turn the time over to you for comments.  Feel free to share with us how Susan affected your life.  I’d like to hear from as many as possible so please keep your comments to a sentence or two.”

He returned to his seat on the front row. 

Dexter Wilkinson was the first one to approach the microphone.  “Susan made it possible for one daughter to graduate from Columbia, and reminded me of the joy little Camille brought into my life.”

Charlie was standing off to the side of the pulpit by the time Dexter finished.  He cleared his throat.  “Susan taught my best friend how to live.”

He exited to the right and Harry Stelton stepped up from the left.  A line of a dozen people now waited for their chance to speak.

One of Susan’s close friends, Tiffany, said, “Susan crammed a lifetime of giving into a life cut very short.  She taught me what it means to help others.”

As she spoke, Sylvester stood and shuffled to the podium, approaching it from the opposite side of the growing line.  When Tiffany stepped away, Sylvester approached the microphone.  Debbie Reese, who stood at the front of the line, motioned for him to go ahead of her.

In a gruff voice he said.  “Well, I never met Susan, but apparently she arranged for me to visit my wife’s grave.  It’s made life bearable anyway.”  He shambled back to his seat.

Debbie, the petite redhead who had been rescued from throat cancer was allowed to step up to the microphone.  Unaccompanied, she shared her beautiful voice with the crowd, singing the purest version of
Amazing
Grace
Jonathan had ever heard.  When she finished singing she returned to her seat.

A few minutes later, it was Angie and Michael Hammond's turn, and they approached the microphone together.  Angie held a one-year-old girl.  "Without Susan, we would never have been able to bring our precious baby into the world."  Through her tears she went on.  "Until today I had no idea what a rich legacy we gave our daughter when we named her Susan."

The funeral was planned for around thirty minutes, but hours passed as hundreds of people gave their short tributes.    

Jamal Johnson was the last person in the dwindling line.  He wore a full priest’s cassock complete with clergy shirt and white collar.  He had been one of the first projects Jonathan selected.  He simply said, “Susan opened the way for God to change me.”  He sat down, leaving the podium unattended for the first time in over two hours.

Jonathan was most interested to hear the words of the last person to the podium.  Marcus stood and smoothed his jacket as he walked to the microphone.  His eyes were wet before he even started.  Most people were intimidated by Marcus.  However, if they knew his past they wouldn’t be intimidated; they’d be terrified.

“I was born in Flint.  My mother was a crack addict and a part-time prostitute, and I never knew who my dad was, so I lived with my Nana.  My early life was filled with gangs, drugs, sex, and violence.  By the time I turned thirteen I had committed more violence than any ten people should have to endure in a lifetime.

“My grandma became a victim of it.  She was shot in a drug transaction and ended up in the regional hospital that provided service for the slums.  The hospital was overcrowded, the nurses were overworked, and the doctors were under qualified.  She would have died in that hospital bed.”

Marcus pulled a Kleenex from the box next to the podium and wiped his eyes.  “I walked into a church for the first time in my life, fully expecting the priest to throw me out in the street.”  He paused.  After a deep breath he looked down at Jamal Johnson and continued.  “But he didn’t throw me out.  He put his arm around me and led me to the altar.  He told me I could talk straight to God, and tell Him what was wrong and ask for His blessing.

“I knelt and swore that if God would save my grandma I would never fight, deal, or use.  I would leave my gang and devote my life to helping people. 

“When I finished, the priest told me to have faith and return to her side at the hospital.  I believe God answered that prayer and He used Susan and Jonathan to do it.  My grandmother was moved to a different hospital and given the best medical care money could buy.  She survived, but just barely.

“I’m sorry to say my grandmother returned to her former life and refuses to change.  But my life turned out completely different.  I stand in front of you today, not just alive, but at peace, ready to continue to bless others.

“Over four hundred of us are now assembled as witnesses of how God uses individuals to bless individuals.  One person has deeply affected the lives of all of us.  How much more can we do in our own lives to make the ripple effect continue?”

He paused and spread his hands to take in the field of daisies that surrounded him.  “Just as a single flower has turned into this blanket of flowers here, so can Susan’s life be the spark of a wildfire of service.  Every one of us owes that to her.”