ADVANCE ACCLAIM FOR THE SINNERS’ GARDEN
“Some novels are about the head, some are about the heart. William Sirls’ latest is decidedly the latter. A story of hope, humor, forgiveness, and deep restoration, it poignantly illustrates how all of us have the life-changing chance to enter The Sinners’ Garden.”
—JAMES L. RUBART, BEST-SELLING AUTHOR OF ROOMS AND SOUL’S GATE
“Sirls writes a story of choice, change, and intrigue that is wrapped in supernatural fantasy, iPods, and a field of mysterious flowers. In The Sinners’ Garden, he sets the narrative hook deep with multi-layered plots and heart-warming characterizations that reel readers in and refuse to let them go.”
—GAIL WELBORN, SEATTLE EXAMINER
“Intriguing and inspirational . . . a story with exceptional details whose characters come to life and invite you along for the ride.”
—KAY CAMPBELL, HUNTSVILLE TIMES
“Set in a fictionalized version of the Downriver suburbs of Detroit where I pastor, this engaging story presents a picture of God that is both personally and mysteriously involved in restoring lives that have been marred and scarred by mistakes of the past. Faith is the key that brings hope and healing . . . and this is portrayed beautifully in The Sinners’ Garden.”
—BRETT KAYS, LEAD MINISTER OF SOUTHPOINT COMMUNITY CHRISTIAN CHURCH, TRENTON AND ALLEN PARK, MICHIGAN
“William Sirls is a master at weaving God’s transforming power into the lives of seemingly real people with real-life issues. His personal transformation makes his writing even more credible and faith strengthening.”
—PASTOR PAT PITTSNOGLE, CHRIST EVANGELICAL LUTHERAN CHURCH, MILTON, PENNSYLVANIA
“William Sirls has done it again! I was living inside the story, waiting on every word and turning each page with anticipation . . . and that was just the prologue! You will find yourself completely wrapped up in The Sinners’ Garden . . . talking out loud, giving advice, and laughing with the characters. William gives you that rare chance to get lost in a story that you just can’t wait to see how it ends. Grab this book now and thank me later!”
—CHRIS HARRELL, SPEAKER, AUTHOR, AND PASTOR AT SOUTH HILLS CHURCH, CORONA, CALIFORNIA
“The problem I had with this book was that I couldn’t put it down. I love fiction that touches both my soul and spirit, and once again, William Sirls did just that. The Sinners’ Garden portrays heaven touching earth in a supernatural way that shows us how God uses everyday people . . . characters that seem so real that they become your friends, leaving you with a desire to see them in yet another book.“
—JOSEPH G. MILOSIC, ASSOCIATE PASTOR, MT. ZION CHURCH, CLARKSTON, MICHIGAN, AND AUTHOR OF MY HOME THE FAMILY BUSINESS
“Give yourself a gift and read The Sinners’ Garden. I literally consumed it, every morsel of it. A great story that I couldn’t put down. I found myself relating very easily to the characters. It is thought-provoking and encouraging with a hint of mystery for added flavor. Even in tragedy there was hope and comfort. It inspired me with renewed faith to change the things that I can and leave the rest to God. That is one peaceful place to be! And . . . I will never see a flower garden in quite the same way again.”
—SUSAN M. TANT
“I am a fairly new Christian and consider William Sirls to be one of my favorite authors. The Sinners’ Garden had me hooked at the prologue and I found it impossible to put down. Prepare yourself for all kinds of emotions while reading and keep the tissue box close by!”
—DONNA O’BRIEN
“As a resident of the web of small towns in Southeast Michigan known as Downriver, I appreciated the local references. Sirls played with landmarks in a fun way to create his small town setting that could easily be anywhere. Now, when I see kids like Andy riding their dirt bikes along fields and trails, grappling with their own demons, I will think of The Sinners’ Garden . . . where Sirls opens the conversation about sin and redemption, but leaves it up to his readers to question and answer concepts for themselves. An excellent book club read.”
—RHONDA RAFT
“The Sinners’ Garden exposes the fact that God is alive and well and He’s willing to go to great and unusual lengths to get people to listen to Him. This book reminds us that God has a plan, a purpose for each life, one that has healing and miracles and forgiveness. All He wants from us is to take that inexplicable thing called a ‘leap of faith’ and believe. As you will read, some people have to leap farther than others, but we can all be confident that when we land, we’ll be surrounded by His goodness and grace.”
—CINDY BENEDICT BARCLAY
© 2013 by Canyon Insulation, Inc.
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Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of Thomas Nelson, Inc.
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Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. Holy Bible, New Living Translation. © 1996, 2004, 2007 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.
Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Sirls, William, 1964-
The sinners’ garden / William Sirls.
pages cm
ISBN 978-1-4016-8738-0 (pbk.)
1. Teenage boys--Fiction. 2. Uncles--Fiction. 3. Faith--Fiction. I. Title.
PS3619.I753S56 2013
813’.6--dc23
2013025301
Printed in the United States of America
13 14 15 16 17 18 RRD 6 5 4 3 2 1
for Kenneth
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
ONE. ELEVEN YEARS LATER
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
THIRTY-SEVEN
THIRTY-EIGHT
THIRTY-NINE
FORTY
FORTY-ONE
FORTY-TWO
FORTY-THREE
FORTY-FOUR
FORTY-FIVE
FORTY-SIX
FORTY-SEVEN
EPILOGUE: SEVENTEEN MONTHS LATER
AUTHOR’S NOTE
READING G
ROUP GUIDE
PROLOGUE
Judi walked to the kitchen window again and glanced out to the front yard, hoping to see Todd’s headlights cutting through the darkness as he made his way up the winding gravel driveway toward their farmhouse. She swallowed a sip of cold coffee and shoved past a wave of disappointment, wondering why he was late this time. With a sigh, she opened the oven door, worried the food was getting dried out, three hours after she and Andy had eaten. The chicken and stuffing still looked okay, she decided, with some relief. And it definitely smelled good.
“Mumma?” a small voice called from the living room. It was Andy, her three-year-old son, who’d been sleeping on the living room couch for the better part of an hour. She knew she should’ve put him to bed long ago, but she kept hoping Todd would get home. That he’d want to tuck his son in this time.
“One second, baby,” she said, walking over to the sink. She filled a pot halfway with water before taking it over to the stove. The click-click-click sound of the burner preceded a blue flame that quickly set to warming the bottom of the pot.
“Mumma?” Andy called again.
She walked across the kitchen and peeked into the living room. “What is it, Andy?”
He sat up, yawned, and rubbed his little blue eyes with his fists. He looked around the room, clearly half asleep and confused. “Where are you, Mumma?”
Judi laughed and came around the couch to kneel next to him. “I’m right here, silly.”
He smiled in relief and held out his arms for a hug, which she gladly gave. Judi held him tight, feeling his little ribs while breathing in the smell of baby shampoo that still lingered in his thick brown hair.
“You gonna make the eggs, Mumma?” he asked. “So we can paint them?”
“I just put the water on,” she said, running her hand across the side of his face. She had almost forgotten about boiling the eggs for Sunday’s Easter egg hunt at church, which was only two days away. “They will be done tonight and then we will dye them tomorrow.”
“Good,” Andy said, smiling and clapping. His teeth looked like little white stones and the gap between his two front ones made her want to give him another hug, which she did.
“You go back to sleep and when you wake up you’ll be upstairs in your big-boy bed.”
“Okay,” Andy said, his eyes widening. “Where did Uncle Rip go? Did he go home already?”
Judi laughed again. Rip sounded like “Whip.” She walked over to the window and looked out past the garage toward the barn. Yellow light spilled out the barn door toward the lake and she could see her brother’s broad shoulders as he leaned under the hood of the old Corvette he’d just bought. Actually, it’s not that old . . . and though she suspected, Judi knew she didn’t want to ask him where he got the money to buy it. Some things were best left alone.
“Uncle Rip is still here, baby,” she said, shifting her eyes from the barn to Lake Erie. It looked like black glass, and a streak of moonlight shimmered toward her.
“Good night, Mumma,” Andy said, lying back down. “I love you.”
There weren’t three sweeter words in the world.
Judi made her way back to the couch, kissed Andy on the cheek, and then pressed her finger against his belly button, causing him to giggle. She kissed him again and then tucked the blanket tightly under his legs and feet. “I love you too, Andy.”
He yawned and exhaled before giving her a smile that let her know he was counting on her. Counting on her to keep him safe.
She stood and looked back outside. Rip was now leaning against the barn door, smoking what she hoped was a regular cigarette. He pitched it to the ground, shuffled his foot over it, then walked back into the barn and closed the hood on the Corvette. He said he’d be gone by the time Todd got home. Judi wished he’d meant it. Did he suspect her secret? She shook her head. She’d been doing a good job hiding the bruises. He couldn’t know. Could he? But then why was he hanging out, as if waiting?
If Todd was late, it was likely that he was in one of his moods. And if he was, the last person in the world Judi wanted around was her overprotective little brother—all six foot three of him. If Rip saw Todd in the act, she knew it wouldn’t be good for Andy.
And it certainly wouldn’t be good for Todd.
A narrow beam of light arced across the garage. Todd was home, and Judi quickly prayed that he would come far enough up the driveway to see Rip inside of the barn.
He didn’t.
Please, Lord. Not tonight.
Judi glanced quickly back at the barn, causing her nightie to slide off her left shoulder. She pulled it back up and then went through the family room to meet Todd out on the front porch. He walked right by her, but at least he didn’t have something nasty to say. Judi caught the odor of whiskey as he passed, but was thankful she couldn’t smell some other girl’s perfume. There’d been enough of that over the past year.
He went straight to the kitchen.
“Your supper is in the oven,” she said, following him in. “Let me get it out for you.”
He didn’t say anything. He just walked to the cupboard where they used to store liquor, opened it, and then quickly closed it. Then he looked in the refrigerator and just stood with his back to her, slowly shaking his head. “No beer either?”
“I didn’t get any, I thought that—”
“You just can’t get anything right, can you?”
“I thought you weren’t going to drink at home anymore.”
“Looks like you thought wrong.” He looked at her, hard and mean, and a shiver of fear ran down Judi’s neck.
She wondered who he’d been out drinking with, but now wasn’t the time to ask. Instead, she busied herself by going to the stove and turning off the boiling water. She put on an oven mitt with the word Love embroidered on it and then reached down and pulled open the oven door. She took out the hot plate, removed the aluminum foil, and when she turned around, he was standing right in front of her, startling her. She dropped the plate, and it crashed to the floor, breaking into three pieces while splashing the top of her bare foot with gravy.
Immediately, she bent to clean it up, but he took her by the shoulders, stopping her. He shrugged and let out a little laugh, then carefully put his hand on the side of her neck. Judi felt a whisper of hope in his smile, in his surprisingly gentle touch. It reminded her of the old Todd. Her Todd.
His hand was soft and it felt good as he caressed her. She closed her eyes and smiled, slowly leaning her head into his hand. Her hope surged. Maybe they were finally going to have a good night, a night they could connect. A night they could remember all the things that were right between them. She put her hand on top of his, and Judi could feel his thumb slide across her chin to the other side of her neck. She lowered her hands to his waist. Todd’s fingers moved slowly back and forth below her chin, and when she sighed, he stopped.
She glanced up at him and saw it in his eyes right away.
The look. Such a look of hate. Her heart seized painfully in her chest.
He squeezed, his fingers digging into her throat as he shoved her back, pinning her against the refrigerator.
“No,” she choked out, clawing at his hand. The refrigerator felt cool through the paper-thin nightie, even as her body flushed with heat. “Andy . . . living room.”
Todd abruptly let go, and Judi brought her hands to her throat, bending over and gasping. As soon as she could, she stumbled over to the opening that separated the living room from the kitchen and looked at Andy. Thank God he’s still asleep. She couldn’t bear it if he saw his father be mean to her. He wouldn’t understand . . .
Judi turned around but kept her distance from her husband. He was standing by the stove, oddly still, his neck and shoulders stiff with frustration.
“There’s more food in the fridge,” she said nervously, rubbing her neck. “Let me clean the floor real quick and I’ll make you another plate. It won’t take long to heat up.”
Todd turned around s
lowly, leaned back against the stove, and shook his head in what looked like pure disgust. “You’ll probably screw that up too.”
She stared at him. Maybe everything was her fault. Maybe she was responsible for what Todd had become. For what she had become. For what they had become.
“You’re right,” she said, anxious to say anything to appease him. “I’d probably mess up just putting food on a plate. But I can try. All I want is for you to give me another chance, Todd.”
Todd crossed his arms. “Now you’re getting smart with me?”
“I’m not getting smart with anyone.”
Todd reached behind him and grabbed the handle on the pot of water.
“Oh, that’s just for the Easter eggs,” she said. “I was just going to—”
She belatedly saw his intent. She took a step backward into the living room, but Todd had already flung the scalding water at her. It arced in the air, catching the edge of her left leg and hip.
Judi shrieked, buckled over, and brought her hands to her hip, stunned at the pain, fighting to keep from blacking out. She stared at Todd in disbelief, and as he came in and out of focus, she thought she saw a rare look of remorse on his face.
But then she saw Rip coming through the door right behind him.
“I didn’t know,” Todd said. “I didn’t know that Andy—”
Rip grabbed Todd by the back of his shirt collar and pulled his fist back to punch him. Judi turned away, pressing where it hurt most.
And discovered a little hand clinging to her thigh.
Andy.
In horror, she wrenched around and saw him then. He released his grip on her leg, and his little hands shook in front of his face. His beautiful blue eyes were wide and his mouth was open. The skin on the side of his face began to change. It was wet, red, and raw.
His whole body quivered, but he made no sound.
They must have awakened him and he’d come to her. He must have peeked out from behind her at the exact same time Todd threw the water.
When she picked him up, she forgot about her own pain.
That’s when Andy’s scream finally came.
It was unlike anything she’d ever heard.