A Kingsbury Collection

  There was a party—at least it had seemed like a party—and everyone was paying special attention to him and Heidi. A fancy lady with a feathered hat spent much of that day bawling and fussing over his mother, saying things like, “You poor dear” and “I had no idea Earl wasn’t taking care of you.”

  Back then Jordan hadn’t been sure what it all meant, but a little while later he and his mother and Heidi moved into the house on Oak Street. “It’s a gift from your grandma,” was all his mother would say. Often Jordan wondered why his grandma had given them a house but never came to see them or stay for dinner.

  It all made sense now, of course.

  Jordan blinked and felt the chill of a breeze against the back of his neck. His father had been the black sheep, the boy-gone-bad from a wealthy, upper-crust family in Philadelphia. His father’s father had died in his fifties of a stroke, and Jordan guessed that his grandmother hadn’t known a thing about him or Heidi or their mother until the accident. Then—so her grandchildren would always have a place to live—the old woman had paid cash for the small house on Oak Street and given it to his mother. That done, she’d washed her hands of the three of them.

  “I want the lady with the pretty hat to come see us again,” Heidi had said one night while they were cuddled on their mother’s lap for a bedtime story.

  “The pretty lady is busy, sweetheart. But I’ll tell her you’d like her to come and maybe one day … ”

  Another memory came into focus. Jordan was eight years old—maybe nine—and he and Heidi and Faith had walked home from school. When they came inside, they found his mother at the kitchen table, her hands over her face.

  He and Heidi were at her side immediately, while Faith stood close by, her pretty face shadowed with concern.

  “Mom, what happened? What’s wrong?”

  His mother had sniffled once and wiped her eyes with her fingertips. “Nothing, kids. I’m fine.” She smiled at them, her cheeks swollen from crying. “You remember the nice old lady? The one who gave us this house?”

  Jordan and Heidi nodded.

  Their mother sniffled again. “Someone called today and told me she … she died.”

  At the time Jordan remembered feeling relief. It was too bad for the old lady, but at least there wasn’t something wrong with his mother. Strange, he’d thought, that she would be so upset over the death of someone she barely knew.

  A flutter of action brought Jordan back to the present, and he watched a bird land on the Jesus statue. He narrowed his eyes as though trying to see into the past. His mother’s tears were easier to understand now, in light of thirty years of life experience. She must have felt so alone, so abandoned. First by his father, then by the old woman. True, she had given them a house. But she had never extended her friendship, her seal of approval that Jordan and Heidi and their mother were worthy of her time and attention. That afternoon, hearing that she was dead, must have ended his mother’s dreams of someday being close to the only family she had left.

  It had been another reminder that all they had in the world was each other.

  Jordan could see himself throwing his arms around his mother’s neck and comforting her that day. “It’s okay, Mom. You don’t need anyone but me and Heidi.”

  And that was true, until the year Jordan turned ten.

  Everything about his childhood seemed to crystallize that year—his relationship with Heidi, with his mother, with God Himself. That was the year Jordan knew without a doubt that everything would work out for them. And that belief started because of his growing friendship with Faith Moses.

  For the first five years of living on Oak Street, Jordan saw Faith as little more than a nuisance. She was a yucky girl who happened to live next door, someone to talk to and walk home from school with, a big sister figure for Heidi, but nothing more. Faith hung around the house after school sometimes, and once in a while he and Heidi would go to her house. But the summer he turned ten, it was as though someone flipped a light switch and he could see Faith for the first time. She was beautiful, even back then, possessed of a combination of joy and grace that gave her the air of a princess. Not that she ever acted that way. It was simply who she was.

  One night she and Jordan played checkers after school while Heidi stayed home with their mother. The afternoon gave way to evening and just before dark a big man with an even bigger smile burst through the door and shouted. “Hey, family, the happiest man in the world is home!”

  Jordan had never been formally introduced to Faith’s father until that evening. “And who do we have here?” The man wore a neatly trimmed beard and the light from his blue eyes seemed to fill the room.

  Faith jumped up and ran into her father’s arms. “This is Jordan from next door, Daddy. You’ve seen him before.” Even now Jordan could remember the pang of jealousy he’d felt seeing Faith and her father that way.

  Jordan blinked back the wetness in his eyes as the image faded. What would it have been like to be hugged by his dad, to be loved that way by a father? The little boy inside still wanted the experience, but Jordan had no more understanding of that kind of love than he’d had twenty years earlier. But even twenty years hadn’t dimmed the memory of the smile on Bob Moses’ face when he and Jordan met.

  “Jordan, welcome to our home. This is the place where Jesus lives!” The man was so happy, so sure of himself that at first Jordan had taken the statement literally. It seemed true enough, for at Faith’s house people were always laughing or dancing or praising God about something. If Jesus had to live somewhere, chances were he lived with the Moses family.

  Jordan stayed for dinner that night and every now and then his eyes would meet Faith’s and they would giggle. When he went home that evening he made an announcement to his mother. “I’m going to marry Faith Moses one day.”

  His mother smiled at him and pulled him close, the way she always did when he came through the door. “Are you now?”

  Jordan nodded. “Yep. I like her, Mom. Jesus lives at her house.”

  Jesus lives at her house?

  The memory was more than a little startling, and Jordan shifted, gazing at the tops of the trees along the park’s edge. Was he the one who introduced Jesus to his family? He’d always assumed it was Faith’s mother, Betty, who’d led them to the Lord. But that wasn’t how he was remembering it now …

  An arrow of regret pierced his heart. If he’d been the one, he was deeply sorry. There was no reason to believe Jesus was alive—not back then or today. Yet somehow his mother had fallen completely in love with Jesus Christ. And it had happened sometime after he’d come home from Faith’s that night.

  Another picture came into view of Heidi and him watching television with Faith in the den while their mothers talked quietly in the next room. The women had their Bibles out, as they did several times a week when Faith’s mother came to visit. A few weeks later he and Heidi and their mother started attending church with the Moses family. And Jordan still remembered the highlight of their Sunday outings: As they walked from the car to the church building, Mr. Moses would put his arm around Jordan’s shoulders and ask him questions.

  “Did you have a good week, Jordan? Been talking to Jesus much?”

  Jordan didn’t remember his answers or even all the things Mr. Moses asked. Just the feeling of the man’s arms around him.

  Two months later, his mother got baptized at church, and after that there was something different about her eyes. She’d always been kind and gentle, quick with a hug and a kiss for him and Heidi. But that day she pulled them aside and told them what happened. “I gave my life to Jesus, kids. And one day I want you to do the same thing. He loves us all very much … and I love Him more than anything.”

  Jordan had bristled just a bit at that. More than anything? More than Heidi and him? His worries didn’t last long, because whatever loving Jesus meant, it seemed to only make their mother more wonderful, as though it had accomplished something deep and lasting within her. There was a peace in
her eyes, a joy that remained whether the welfare check came on time each month or not.

  It was a joy that was still there two years later when she began to have a strange cough that wouldn’t go away.

  Jordan was twelve that year, Heidi just nine. Still his little sister picked up on their mother’s condition and shared her fears with Jordan. “I’m worried about Mama,” she told him one night. Their mother had gone to bed early, pale and tired, and Jordan was in charge of doing the dishes and making sure they were both in bed by nine. He pulled Heidi into a hug. “I know. Me too.”

  “You think we should pray to Jesus?” Heidi stared at him, her brown eyes glistening with sincerity.

  Jordan thought of the way his mother loved God, the way she talked about Jesus as though he no longer lived only at Faith’s house but at their house too. “Okay, let’s do it.”

  Then Jordan and Heidi held hands and talked to Jesus as though He was right there with them, part of their circle. Jordan remembered keeping his eyes closed, wondering if he opened his eyes whether Jesus would really be standing there with them. “Mama loves you, Jesus. So make her better quick, okay? And thank you for giving us each other.”

  It was something he’d heard his mother pray and it seemed appropriate that night. Over the next few weeks she had several doctor’s appointments and for a while the cough seemed to go away. It came back in the springtime when Jordan was thirteen, and this time she seemed worse than before.

  One afternoon Jordan and Faith were walking home from the local junior high when he stopped and sat on the edge of the curb. His feelings were all jumbled that day. He’d seen Faith talking to another boy at school, and though they were too young to date, he couldn’t fight the uncomfortable feelings squaring off in his heart. If he hadn’t known better he’d have thought he was actually jealous. But it wasn’t just Faith. He was worried about his mother, too. She seemed to be getting thinner, wasting away a little more each day. The combination of feelings was simply too much and as Jordan sat on the curb, he hung his head and choked back a sob as two teardrops fell to the ground.

  “Jordan, what’s wrong?” Faith was immediately at his side, her arm around his shoulders. “Are you sick? What?”

  Worried as he was about his mother, his heart suddenly overflowed with thoughts of Faith. He sniffed once and studied her eyes. “Am I your best friend?”

  She was so pretty, her pale blond hair framing her face as she nodded. “You know you are.”

  “Then why were you with Scott Milton today at lunch?” Jordan could still hear himself, hear the way his voice sounded as he asked the question. Not angry or accusatory, but wounded.

  Faith’s eyes danced. “Jordan Riley, you mean you’re jealous of old Scott Milton?” She giggled and removed her arm from his back, punching him playfully in the shoulder. “I thought you and me were only friends.” She raised her chin a notch. “Besides, everyone says you like Lorianne Wilcox.”

  It was Jordan’s turn to laugh, and he bumped her playfully with his shoulder. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

  “It’s true, isn’t it?” She was teasing him, and he loved the way she made him feel. Even back then, when he was too young to know what it all meant.

  “No, it isn’t true. Lorianne has a big nose.”

  A knowing look filled Faith’s eyes. “I’ll be sure to remember that.” She pretended she was taking notes on an invisible piece of paper. “Jordan Riley … doesn’t like … big noses.”

  Jordan stopped laughing and his smile fell. Faith stared sadly at him, clouds dimming the twinkling in her eyes. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Jordan knew she was the only one he could talk to about his fears. Heidi was too young and he didn’t want to scare her. Of course he could never tell his mother; she would be devastated to know his true feelings. “I think … I think my mom’s dying.”

  Faith’s eyes flew open and she shook her head. “No, Jordan. Don’t say that. She’s just sick. Remember, it happened last year, too?”

  Jordan hung his head again. “I know, but this time it’s different. Like she’s not ever going to get better again.”

  Faith was adamant in her response. “Then we need to pray. Right away so Jesus knows what you’re feeling.”

  Jordan nodded and waited for Faith to take the initiative. She reached out and held his hand in hers. “Father God, we come before You knowing that You hear us when we pray … please, Jesus, make Jordan’s mom get better. He and Heidi need her so much. And please help Jordan trust You so he won’t be afraid.” She said some other things too, but Jordan didn’t remember them. He was torn between trying to focus on the prayer and enjoying the way her hand felt in his.

  When they were finished they looked up at each other, and Jordan realized all the other kids had made their way inside already. It was just he and Faith alone on the curb, a spring breeze washing over them. Without giving it another thought, Jordan leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. A simple kiss that was neither lingering nor rushed. The kind of kiss that meant they were more than friends, but still too young for anything serious. Faith’s cheeks grew flushed, and for once she had nothing to say.

  Jordan looked through her eyes straight to her heart that afternoon. “I’m going to marry you one day, Faith.” He grinned and poked her in the ribs to lighten the mood. “So don’t go spending too much time with Scott Milton.”

  There was a new shyness in Faith’s eyes as she smiled at him. “Okay. And don’t forget to pray about your mom. Jesus’ll help her, Jordan. I just know it.”

  Looking back now Jordan wasn’t sure if it was Faith’s words that afternoon or his deepening sense that something was terribly wrong with his mother that had spurred him to start riding his bike to Jericho Park. He would sit on the very bench he occupied now and pray to Jesus about the thoughts that filled his heart. Usually his trips to the park were at night, after he and Heidi had finished their homework, after the two of them had cleaned dinner dishes and he was sure his mother was sleeping comfortably. Then he’d tuck Heidi into bed, jump on his old bicycle and head for the Jesus statue.

  Jordan had no idea how often he’d visited Jericho Park during that time of his life. The only person who knew what he was doing was Faith, but even she didn’t know the range of thoughts he brought before the Lord at the foot of the statue. He prayed for his family and his grades and his baseball game. Money was scarce and he wanted a scholarship to play baseball in college so he could get a good job and make a decent living. That way they could afford the best doctors for his mother. He even prayed about Faith, knowing that somehow the two of them would be together one day.

  But most of all he prayed for his mother.

  Faith had asked him about the statue before. “It’s not like that’s really Jesus. You know that, right?”

  Jordan had laughed. “Of course I know that. It’s just a good place to pray. It makes me remember Jesus is real, not just some imaginary person, you know?”

  Faith grinned. “I know. I feel the same way. I’m glad we have the statue here. It must make Jesus happy that it’s right there on Main Street for everyone to see.”

  As his mother’s health worsened that summer, Jordan began making the trip to Jericho Park every night. Sometimes Faith would come with him and they’d sit on the bench together, holding hands as they prayed for Jordan’s mother. Once in a while they’d share a brief kiss or two, but nothing more. When school started that fall, Jordan and Faith privately knew that they shared a relationship, but they also understood they were too young to make their commitment public. Whereas they’d held hands innocently in their younger, childish years, now they were careful to only do so when they were alone.

  On several occasions, Heidi had caught them that way, hands linked as they talked outside on the curb. Once in a while she’d tease them, but most of the time she understood.

  “You still love me too, right?” Heidi asked him one night before they went to sleep.

 
“Of course, silly. You’re both my best friends.”

  By the time the leaves changed in October that year, Jordan’s mother was at the doctor every other day for some kind of appointment, and she wore a scarf all the time. Chemotherapy. He understood now, but at the time he’d had no idea what that meant. Only that she looked worse all the time and with each passing day his fears grew stronger than ever. He began listening in to her conversations with Faith’s mother. One afternoon he overheard her say something about telling the kids, choosing the right time. That night he found her alone in her room and knelt by her bedside.

  “What do you want to tell us, Mom?” He whispered the words so he wouldn’t startle her, and she turned her head weakly in his direction.

  A smile filled her thin face. “Oh, hi, Jordan. Wasn’t it a beautiful day?”

  Panic worked it’s way through Jordan’s young body. “Mom, I don’t want to talk about the day. I want to talk about you. What did you want to tell us? You said something to Faith’s mother about talking to Heidi and me. About what?”

  Tears welled in his mother’s eyes, and she breathed out for a long time. “I guess it’s time you know.” She hesitated as though she would have done anything in the world to keep from having to tell him this news. “I have cancer, Jordan.” She swallowed and for several moments couldn’t speak. “Do … do you know what that is?”

  Jordan had the feeling he’d been plunged under a twenty-foot tidal wave. He felt the same way he’d felt when Jimmy Julep hit him in the stomach with a fast pitch back in fifth grade. He clutched his sides and nodded. “Faith’s grandpa died of cancer.”

  His mother smiled. “Right.” She struggled to catch her breath and wound up coughing for several seconds. “I have it in my lungs, honey. The doctors say that Jesus might be calling me home.”