Chapter 20
She was a living, breathing zombie. For the last week she had simply been going through the motions.
She knew it was silly, but she swore that even Jamie sensed it was a bad time for her and decided to give her a break by acting like a normal, well-behaved little boy. He seemed to be adjusting well to his new school and he hadn’t given her one problem since the day she found out about Stacy.
Evie squeezed her eyes shut and inwardly cringed as she laid alarmingly still in her bed on a Monday morning. She was due into work at two o’clock in the afternoon but was considering calling out. She had been experiencing sharp stabs of pain in her chest as of late, and she knew they were from her heightened anxiety. As the aching finally began to subside, she opened her eyes, only to find her mother standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. Evie knew what this was about and couldn’t handle the lecture she was sure to come, so she turned over in bed and faced the wall.
Her mother had left her alone for a week, taking over the majority of Jamie’s care. Evie knew it could not go on for much longer, yet she hoped her mother would go away.
“Don’t act like you don’t see me,” Madeline finally said.
“Go away, Mama,” Evie moaned.
“You need to get out of bed. You’re acting like somebody died. James has been dead for the last three years.”
Furious, Evie sat up quickly in bed, throwing the covers back violently.
“How can you be so nonchalant about all of this?” she spewed. “He killed your son-in-law, and you knew the whole time and never said anything.”
Madeline’s face didn’t change.
“You’re right, I didn’t say anything. I knew who he was the day you came home and told me his name.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Evie wailed.
“If you stop screeching for a moment, I’ll tell you.”
Satisfied that she would get an answer, Evie closed her mouth.
“I know you don’t understand this, but sometimes it’s better to see how certain things are going to play out. I never thought Stacy had the wrong intentions, I just didn’t know what they were. But now I do.”
“And what are they? To help me out like he said?” Evie spat.
“No. Well, to some extent. What I really think that man wanted was forgiveness.”
“Ha, yeah right! He doesn’t deserve anything!”
“Who do you think you are? Do you think you’re too good to forgive somebody for a wrong they are obviously sorry for? You think you’re better than Jesus? He can forgive the people who killed Him, but you can’t forgive the man who shot your husband?”
“He killed him!”
“He did not. He shot him, but we know that other man killed him. It was in the reports. What makes you think that you have the right not to forgive someone? You have an opportunity here, an amazing one that God has given you for His glory, and you’re throwing it in His face.”
“But Mama,” Evie tried, knowing that her argument was literally being ripped apart.
“No, don’t but Mama me. God has given you a tough challenge, I won’t refute that. He’s saying, ‘Evie, can you do this? Can you prove your love for Me by doing this thing here? It’s the hardest thing you may have to do, but will you do this for me?’ And you’re saying, ‘No God, I can’t. I’m sorry.’ What did Jesus say to the Romans when they had Him up on that cross?”
“I forgive them for they know not what they do,” Evie ground out.
“Exactly. And anyone who has eyes can see that man is sorry for what he did. And if you believe what he wrote in that letter, you’d know he really didn’t understand the magnitude of what he was doing.”
“Mama, he pulled his gun out and shot James. He may not have killed him but he shot him. James didn’t deserve that. Whether or not you see it, Stacy is a bad cop.”
Even as the words left her mouth, Evie was unsure of them.
“Would a bad cop write that letter? Would a bad cop come to the family and help them? Would a bad cop come to you and admit what he did and take that brutal beating you gave him without so much as a word against you?”
“Just because he did stuff for me and Jamie doesn’t mean anything. Doing stuff for us eased his guilt. It was all done out of guilt.”
Now that she believed.
Madeline shook her head. “To some degree, yes I do believe his actions were performed out of guilt in the beginning. But honey, even I can see it’s much more than that now.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Has anything happened between you too?” her mother asked.
“Like what?”
Evie pretended not to know what her mother was talking about.
“Romantically.”
She hesitated.
“We…he kissed me once,” she admitted.
“Sounds to me like there’s much more than guilt going on there.”
Evie’s mind went back to that evening in the kitchen. That kiss had been absolutely amazing, and at the same time terrifying because she hadn’t had feelings like that for the last three years. She quickly shook her head attempting to dismiss the thoughts.
“Honey, ultimately it is up to you whether or not you want that man in you and Jamie’s life. But I honestly do believe he is a good man and that God brought him to you—to us—for a reason. God is giving you a golden opportunity here; don’t throw it in His face. Forgive that man for nothing other than to show him God’s love.”
____________________________________________________________________________
She called out of work that afternoon, and somehow she was able to roll herself out of the bed to take care of Jamie—she even showered herself. Still it didn’t take long for her to return to her bedroom and shut herself in.
Her mother’s words kept ringing in her ears and heart all day. They churned around in her brain and brought to light the things she thought she resolved within herself a long time ago. She had come to the realization that she was not over her husband and his death, and that this was why she hadn’t looked at another man until Stacy practically threw himself at her. The other thing she apprehended was that a lot of anger still resided within her regarding James’ death, and aside from blaming the cops who killed him, she had also made God liable.
Once comfortable in her bed, she picked up her Bible off of the nightstand and opened it up, removing Stacy’s letter. Why did she keep this thing? Her mother asked her that so many times and she couldn’t honestly say why. Holding the letter carefully in her left hand, she began to tear it up into strips with her right hand. One by one she created a messy pile on her bed until the letter was shredded. Then, she opened her Bible to Colossians and just started randomly reading in chapter three.
Forebearing one another and forgiving one another, if any man have a quarrel against any—even as Christ forgave you—so also do ye.
She almost laughed to herself and the appropriateness of the verse, and kept reading.
And above all all these things put on charity, which is the bond of perfection.
Charity, she thought. Punching Stacy in the face probably hadn’t been very charitable.
And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to the which also ye are called in one body—and be ye thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisodm, teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord.
And then it hit her like a lightening bolt. She almost felt like looking up towards the Heavens and saying, “Seriously God? Really?”
She called herself a Christian, even went to church and all of that. But when it came down to it, when she was faced with tough situations, she was a coward. She didnt turn to God, just shut down really. She’d done it when James died, and she was doing it now.
She didn’t trust God to get her through tough situations. She relied on herself,
and that didn’t tend to end very well for her. Here she was being the total opposite of what a Chrisitan should be with Stacy, then again she never thought she would be tested with the man who shot her husband. But like she heard her pastor once say, God doesn’t do things halfway—and He certainly hadn’t here.
Suddenly she remembered something Stacy said to her a few months ago on their date at Gladstones Restaurant: You’re one of the good one’s. She had the opportunity to forgive him, lead Him to God and be a good example. Instead, when he came and laid his heart before her, she’d punched him in the eye—and not just with a single blow.
“I am so sorry, God,” she thought as she dropped to her knees and started praying.
____________________________________________________________________________
Evie had come out of her cocoon, and called Stacy a day after getting herself together with God. She’d kept the conversation short, and simply asked him to meet her at the park to talk.
On the day they were set to meet, she left Jamie at home with her mother—she figured it would be easier to do this without them around. She knew what she needed to do—what God wanted her to do—and had they come with her, she may not have had the courage.
She sat nervously on the bleachers as she waited for Stacy. She hadn’t been able to keep food down all morning, and it was clear by the grumbling from her stomach. Every couple of seconds she glanced at her watch. He wasn’t late; it was still early. In fact, he wasn’t due for another ten minutes.
There’s no way she could continue to look at her watch. Seeing the time tick away was driving her mad. So to occupy herself, she began observe the surroundings of the park. As her eyes led her to the nearby baseball field, her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. She saw him. Stacy was walking towards her with his hands in the pocket of a pair of faded jeans. As he got closer, she felt her heart rip open.
She hadn’t known how she would feel when saw him, but now she did—happiness and attraction, followed by a surge of pity and sadness. The later emotions were thrust upon her when she caught the haggard look on his face and the five o’clock shadow. But just as quickly as that pity and sadness came is disappeared and was replaced with brief rush of anger as she thought of him as the man who last saw her husband alive. It took everything in her might to cast all of those feelings aside and concentrate on what she knew she needed to tell him.
As soon as he reached the bottom bleachers he stopped and hesitated, looking completely unsure of himself.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi,” she replied.
Apparently that was all that needed to be said for the time being. Stacy lowered himself onto the bottom bleacher. Evie, who sat four bleachers up, moved down until she was sitting a few feet away from him. When he saw this, he seemed to loosen up a bit. His face was less dreadful as a result, and this tugged at her heart. Still, she forced herself to focus.
“Stacy, I…I need to know….I mean I want you to tell me about that night James was killed—from beginning to end. Explain it all to me, all the details. Don’t leave anything out.”
Stacy seemed confused by this request.
“Are you sure?”
Evie nodded.
“I need to hear everything from your point of view, not from a police report.”
He didn’t even hesitate.
“Me and Officer Walker were on duty that night. Walker was a veteran officer with twenty years on the force. I was a rookie who was only five months in. What you don’t know and what the reports don’t tell you, is that Walker’s son was killed by an African American man several years earlier. The kid was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got hit by a stray bullet. They caught the man who did it, but losing his only son messed Walker up real bad. He developed this vendetta against black men, I guess you could say. When we were on duty, sometimes he would pull them over for no reason and search their cars just to mess with them.”
Stacy paused for a moment then added, “He did a lot of stuff like that.”
“Anyway, your husband became his target that night. The make and model of his car belonged to a murder suspect we’d been looking for. But when Walker ran your husband’s plates, they came up clean. He stopped him anyway though.”
“My partner,” he continued, “was in a bad mood that night. It was the seventh anniversary of his son’s death and he’d been drinking prior to beginning his shift. I tried to stop him from going out that night, but he wouldn’t listen. He told me if I told anyway he’d been drinking he’d deny it and tell them I was the one drinking and because he was a 20-year veteran they would believe him. He was in the frame of mind to make someone pay that night. He should have let your husband go but…..” Stacy trailed off.
“Keep going,” Evie urged him softly.
“We were in the cruiser when Walker got on the speaker and asked your husband to get out of his car with his hands up where we could see them. He complied, but I could tell he was angry. He started yelling that he hadn’t done anything and needed to get to work before he was late. Walker was starting to get annoyed, and that’s when I knew things were going to get bad real fast. I told Walker just to leave the man alone, but he wouldn’t listen to me. Your husband started yelling, saying that whoever we were looking for he wasn’t that man and if we just looked at his license we would know that. Walker started walking towards him and yelling at him to shut up and keep his hands where he could see them. Your husband shouted back, saying he was just going to grab his wallet and show us his license.
‘He reached back into the car to grab his wallet, and that’s when Walker took the first couple of shots. I didn’t know what to do and had never been in a situation like that before. So when Walker shouted that he was going for a gun I panicked and I shot—three times. As soon as James was down, I ran over to him and that’s when I realized he really was going for his wallet. I told Walker this after I checked for his pulse and there wasn’t one. My partner said it didn’t matter, that when they asked what happened we’d say he was going for what we thought was a gun. And…..and he said that one more Black man dead was doing society a favor.”
Evie winced and tried to calm the rising bile in her throat. These details weren’t something you could get from a police report—only someone there could tell her the things she needed to hear to finally get over her husband’s death.
Stacy didn’t look at her as he continued.
“Walker was wrong, I was wrong. I should have tried harder to stop him. I shouldn’t have even gone out with him that night. I’ve never regretted something so much in my life. Even though it wasn’t the bullet from my gun that killed your husband, I still consider myself the person who did. I feel like I could have stopped it.”
Stacy suddenly turned towards her. She could see the anguish in his face, and she now knew something she had not known before: He was genuinely regretful. The pain radiated off of him in waves; he was tortured by what he’d done.
“Evie, if I could give my life for your husband’s right now so that you could be happy and so that Jamie could have his father back I would—in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t even have to think about it,” he said passionately.
“You don’t know what you and Jamie—and even your mom—have done for me over these past few months. Without even knowing it, you gave me a chance to redeem myself. You actually brought some joy back to my life. You gave my life purpose after my mother died. I guess you could say you all were the keys to my redemption in a way.”
Evie exhaled heavily, her whole rehearsed speech completely useless in this situation right now. Of all the things she had planned to tell him, there was only one thing she knew she needed to say.
“Stacy, we aren’t your keys to redemption, we never were. Jesus Christ is, not us.”
Evie watched his chest rise and fall with every breath he took. Without giving herself a chance to question her actions, she reached over and picked up one of his hands that had be
en clutching the edge of the bleacher. She studied it for a moment, feeling its heavy weight in hers and the rough callouses that marked his palm. She then laced her fingers through his and rested both of their hands in her lap. She pretended not to see the shocked look on his face. He was no doubt stunned by her actions.
As she leaned back into the bleacher above them and bathed in the rays from the setting sun, she felt more at peace than she had for the last three years. Of course, bringing her husband’s killer into her life would not have been the method she would have chosen to in order to gain that peace, but God knew what He was doing.
Epilogue
“Well, now would you look at that,” Madeline said as she watch Stacy toss her now four-year-old grandson up in the air and catch him. She looked across the table and saw her daughter surveying them with a pleased look on her face. She smiled to herself, thinking that maybe she would get more grandchildren sooner than she thought.
“So now Gregory, I hear you’re in the army?” Madeline asked. Stacy’s brother, who sat next to Evie, nodded his head. But he was not paying attention. Rather, he was looking in between Stacy and Evie with the most confused look on his face. Madeline could feel the questions coming and figured she would use this time to exit.
“I think I’ll go check on the birthday boy,” she said to no one in particular. She then made her way over to Stacy, who was now attempting to help Jamie climb up one of the jungle gyms in the middle of a sand pit at the park.
“I don’t get it.”
Evie turned at the sound of Greg’s voice.
“Get what?” she asked kindly.
“Why you forgave my brother for what he did.”
“He told you.”
Greg nodded.
“He did. But I still don’t get it. How do you get over something like that? How do you forgive him?”
Evie smiled softly and looked at Greg’s bewildered face. She realized he wasn’t trying to be harsh, just trying to understand. Just the fact that he was sitting here at her son’s fourth birthday party said loads about the progress he’d made in the relationship with his brother up to this point. But she knew they still had a rocky road ahead of them, according to Stacy.
“I didn’t do it by myself; I didn’t forgive him on my own. Only by the grace of God was I able to forgive him for what he did and let him back into our lives—and that was only after I gave him a black eye.”
Greg chuckled.
“He doesn’t deserve you.”
“We don’t deserve a lot of things, Greg. We don’t deserve God’s love, but He gives it to us anyway. It is what it is,” Evie finished, patting his shoulder affectionately.
“You never do anything halfway, Lord do you?” Madeline said to herself, watching her daughter converse with Greg. Then, looking back at her grandson, who was now at the top of the jungle gym and being cheered on wildly by Stacy, she answered her own question: “No, you never do.”
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About The Author
This is Ms. Gilbreath’s first book. When not writing or working with blind veterans she can be found running after her two small children. She resides in Los Angeles, California with her husband.
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