My Father's Gift (4 page)

“Cal,” she began hesitating, “a little while ago, when I said, ‘I didn’t believe what I heard; you asked me if I would obey.  You didn’t ask me what I heard.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond at all.  “Do you want me to tell you what it was?”

Something in his tone, maybe the way he paused before responding, made her aware that he knew. 
 

“You know what He said to me, don’t you?”
 

“I have an idea.”

“No,” she sat straight up, clutching the phone.  “You know.  Care to share it?”

“Not right now.  I need clarification myself.”

Now, she was frustrated and her voice betrayed her.  “Cal, what’s really going on here?  Why did you suddenly call me in the middle of the night when it has been over three weeks since I last spoke to you?  Can you explain that?”

“I told you.  I called to talk.  It’s really getting late and I have to get up soon.  May I call you later today?”
 

Okay, she said to herself.  Two can play this game.  “Yes, I’ll be here.’

“Good, I’ll talk to you later.  Have a blessed day.”

“You, too.  Bye.”

D’Cerner lay holding the phone thinking she had finally lost her mind.  Did she hear what she heard and how did Cal know?  After an hour of twisting and sighing, not able to come up with any plausible answers, she finally fell asleep.  As she slept, question marks chased her through winding streets and forests.

A few hours later, she woke up wondering if she had dreamed the entire conversation.  Before concluding her regular morning ritual of prayer, she asked if she was dreaming, referring to God as “Daddy” as she usually did.

“Daddy, if that message I heard was a dream, let me know.”

“
It was not a dream.  You heard correctly.”

“But how did Cal know what you said and why have you chosen me.”

“He knew because I told him before he called you.  As you can

see, he needs balance in his life.”

“But why me?”

“Because I love you.”

At that, she stopped asking questions.  She had to digest what she had heard through the cobwebs of confusion, thinking about a number of things at once.  She finally decided that she would deal with it all later.

*****

After Cal had gone to bed the night before, he woke with the same thoughts.  He was not sure himself that he had heard right, but he called D’Cerner after being prompted by the Holy Spirit to do so.  He had known it was late and he had no idea how she would react. But, he had decided to be obedient and let things unravel at their own pace.   

He knew that she would be told what she was to do, but he didn’t know if she would be receptive.  Based on her reaction, he could tell that the Holy Spirit had dropped the word into her spirit.  As he pondered this predicament, he began to wonder if this was going to work.  He wanted a wife and was certain that she was the one simply because God spoke it to him. However, D’Cerner didn’t sound too happy about the prospect of being anyone’s wife; especially his. 

“Father,” he began to pray.  “You didn’t tell me she’d had a number of proposals.  She’s been engaged eight times.”

“
I wasn’t aware that I was accountable to you.”

“You’re right.  Forgive me.  How do I proceed from here and what is she really thinking about this?”          

“
In due time, you will know everything you need to know.  You don’t need to know everything right now.  Wait a few days to call her.  I have to talk to her.”

“But I told her that I would call her later today.”

“Yes, you did, but you didn’t ask me.  Wait a few days and then call. She’ll be irritated, but she’ll get over it.”

“Will she do it?”

“That depends upon you.  I have given her a submissive spirit, but
you are not to abuse that knowledge.  You have already reminded her that it is her choice to obey or not.  It usually takes her awhile, but she eventually obeys my voice.  Don’t push it.  Let her work it out.”

Realizing that the future was out of his hands, Cal concluded his prayer.  While he was getting dressed for work, he couldn’t help thinking about how D’Cerner would respond—to God and to him.

Chapter Six

Cal spent the next morning going over paperwork at the Royal Chariot, his limousine service office, undisturbed, the way he preferred to work.  He was planning to order two additional limousines since request for his services had increased.   However, he found it difficult to think about business when he couldn’t stop thinking about D’Cerner.  This was the first time that anything like this had ever happened to him and he really didn’t what to make of it.  There was one thing he did know.  He wasn’t about to tell her he knew what God had said to her.  It sounded too unreal for words.  He knew it was true, but he did not know how one explained this type of phenomena when they did not fully understand it themselves. 

“Well,” he thought, “We’re just going to ride this out until we both understand it implicitly.  I really wish that I hadn’t told her that I would call her today.  My Father said wait, so I’m going to have to wait.  I hope she’ll understand.  And if she doesn’t, it’s out of my hands.”

Realizing he had to stop agonizing over the situation since he had no control over it, he decided to immerse himself in the business at hand.  He picked up the phone and asked his secretary to come to his office.

“Debbie,” he said to the sedate young woman who came into the room, with notebook and pen in hand, “I need you to call Doug Mason at Trevarris Cadillac.  Schedule a meeting for this afternoon at three, if he’s available.  If not, reschedule for first thing tomorrow morning.  I’ve looked over the new contract and I don’t like the changes he’s trying to incorporate.  I’m going over to Dexter House and I’ll be there for the next couple of hours, if you need me.  Tell Frank to make sure the limousines are cleaned before they’re sent out for their next trip.”

“Okay, Mr. Recinoire,” Debbie responded as she scribbled on her note pad.

“See you later, Debbie.  Call me if you think Doug is trying to avoid me.  Otherwise, leave a message on the desk if you’re not going to be here when I get back.”

“Mr. Recinoire, are you expecting your children to come down today?” Debbie asked, just before she left the room.

“No, but if they do; put them to work doing something productive.” He smiled as he thought about his children actually doing something productive.  They never wanted to do any work, but they always wanted money.  Fortunately he didn’t have any problems with either of them.  They knew when he was in a playful mood and when he wasn’t and most of the time he wasn’t.  Don was a six foot four-inch athlete, who lived and breathed basketball.  He was a senior in high school and had never caused Cal any problems.  Kathy, who was eighteen months younger than her brother, wanted to try gaining her independence from household rules, but when he allowed her to play grown-up, complete with making decisions and paying bills out of her allowance, it didn’t last very long.  She had decided that life was easier being daddy’s little girl, which entailed doing chores around the house, keeping her grades up and participating in church, which she loved anyway.  She didn’t appear to be too interested in boys, yet, but Cal knew he was going to have his hands full when she did get interested.

Picking up his briefcase and coat on the way out of the office, he looked at his watch and realized it was later than he had thought.  He had promised some of the boys he would be at Dexter House by lunchtime. 

“Considering the fact that I was up almost the entire night, I guess I’d be surprised if I did know what time it is,” he thought.

The Royal Chariot office was only a few miles from Dexter House so it didn’t take him long to get there.  He checked in with the front desk and proceeded to his office at the end of the corridor.  The youth home was an old school building, renovated to house the fifty boys that lived there.  The bricks on the outside of the building were so age-grimed that there was probably no one who could tell what the original color was.  The tiled floors in the hallways always looked like they needed to be cleaned, but he knew they were cleaned regularly.  Like the outside bricks, age had taken its toll on the tiles.  The home housed boys from ten to seventeen years old.  Most were here because their parents either couldn’t do anything with them or they were runaways.  At least living here, they were off the streets and usually stayed out of trouble.  As long as the boys followed the rules, they could stay until they were seventeen, when most were declared emancipated teenagers.  Most of them left before their sixteenth birthday and since the home was for volunteer residents, no one could stop them.  Males under dominant rule usually became a chore to discipline at fourteen.  The fact that they had some fifteen year olds still there was amazing to Cal. 

Reaching the corner office at the end of the first floor corridor, Cal opened the grimy yellowed door that boasted his nameplate.  One of the boys had made it for him as one of their projects in art class.  Of course, it was one of the younger boys who had made it, since the older ones wouldn’t dream of letting someone think they were thoughtful.  He smiled as he straightened the crooked sign.  His name was misspelled and the letters were not uniform, but he looked forward to seeing it whenever he could get there. 

Being in a corner office had its advantages and its disadvantages.  There was more space, but there was also more clutter to take up the space. A big wooden desk sat in front of the window with a swivel chair behind it.  In front of this desk was a smaller desk that held his computer.  He hung up his coat on the coat rack across the room and tossed his briefcase on the small sofa that sat in the corner of the room.  There was one other chair in front of the computer desk and file cabinets took up the rest of the space.  He barely had room for his portable radio and CD player, which was sitting precariously close to the edge of the windowsill. Today, like many others, there was a stack of referrals awaiting his attention. He sifted through the referrals to determine which should take priority. 

“Priority,” he mused, talking to himself, “that’s a joke.  All of them are priorities, but unfortunately, there are not enough adult men to accommodate them.  I wonder what it’s going to take for men to understand that boys need men, real men for positive role models, not this garbage in the streets, pushing dope and living off women.” 

He got angry every time he thought about the predicament in which most of these boys had lived.  Most of them thought the dealer on the corner was a good role model.  They didn’t know the other side of the dismal stories and he had heard all of them.  He paused as he looked at one referral.  The young boy was sixteen, living with a grandmother who couldn’t keep up with him.  He didn’t appear to be a real problem, just someone in need of direction.  The fact that he was sixteen surprised Cal because usually at that age, they didn’t want anyone telling them anything.  He picked up the phone and called the house director.

“Mr. Johnson, are you free to meet with me for a few minutes?  I need to discuss one of the referrals with you.”

“Sure, I’ll be right in.”

Mr. Johnson’s office was two doors away, it didn’t take him long to get to Cal’s office.  He knocked before he entered.

“Come”.

“Mr. Recinoire, how are you today?”

“I’m blessed.  Have a seat.  I was looking through these referrals when this one on Reggie Davis caught my eye.  How is it that at sixteen, he’s a resident here and how long has he been here?”

“He came in two days ago.  His grandmother had called because he was missing for a few days and when he finally returned, she didn’t want to let him in the house.  Someone told him about us and he came here.  He swears he’s not into drugs or gangs, he just thinks that his grandmother is a little too strict with him.  At any rate, we pulled his school records and he passed the drug test.  That’s why he’s here.  I made the referral because he said that his father had never lived in the home and his older brother is in and out of jail.  I had hoped that we could find this young man someone to mentor him while he still wants direction.”

“I hope we can, too.  There’s a shortage of available men and some of those already have two boys.  There is someone I have in mind, but I would like to interview Reggie first, myself.”    

“He’s in the cafeteria, but I’ll send him up as soon as he finishes eating.”

“Thanks Mr. Johnson.  By they way, how are things going with you?”

“They’re going.  Not as fast as I’d like, but they’re going.  How are things at the church?”

“They’re great.  Things are really beginning to pick up.  My pastor is really something.  God has anointed her and uses her like no one I’ve ever seen.  You know, considering the fact that we just celebrated her fifth anniversary, the ministry is growing at a greater rate than we had anticipated.”

“That’s good to hear.  I’ll send Reggie right up to see you.”

Mr. Johnson left to go to the cafeteria and Cal turned on the radio in time to hear his pastor’s afternoon broadcast.  He was listening so intently to what she was saying he had almost forgotten about Reggie.  When he heard the knock at the door, it startled him.

“Come,” Cal said, as he turned the volume down on the radio.

A slender young man came into the room. “Mr. Recinoire, Mr. Johnson said you wanted to see me.”

“Yes I do.  Have a seat.  I’ve been looking over a referral that was left for me that indicates that you would like to be part of the mentoring program.  Do you have any idea what the program does?” Cal watched the young man intently.

“Not really, but Mr. Johnson said that it might be possible for you to get someone to help give me direction.  You know, be a positive role model and all that,” Reggie said as he sat, slumped in the chair in front of the computer desk.

“No, I don’t know and in the future, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t use that particular phrase when talking to me.”  Slang always evoked Cal’s vivid sense of strictness.