Lie Down in Green Pastures

  "You're so kind," Cindy said sarcastically.

  "I know; it's one of my many strengths."

  As soon as Cindy was seated at the kitchen table Geanie went back out to the car for the flowers and set them on the table in front of her. She plucked the card from amidst them and thrust it toward Cindy.

  "Open it!"

  "Help, I can only use one hand."

  "Oh, sorry!"

  Geanie slid the card out of the envelope and then handed it to Cindy. She sat down and stared at her expectantly.

  She's in love and now she wants everyone else to be, Cindy realized.

  Cindy looked at the writing on the card.

  We've got our first request for a showing! Meet me at the house Tuesday night at 6 and bring the flowers. Gary.

  Cindy couldn't help but feel disappointed. "It's from my real estate agent."

  "Oh. That's . . . different."

  "He's going to show the house tonight and he wants me to bring these. I remember him talking about 'staging' the house for showings. I'm guessing these are part of the plan."

  "Some plan. Tell him next time to bring the flowers himself and not to get a girl excited."

  Cindy nodded. "I guess it's possible he has an ulterior motive. I mean maybe he could be flirting with me."

  "Is it so hard to imagine?" Geanie asked. "You're a wonderful woman. Any man would be crazy not to see that."

  "Thanks. Now would you mind sending that out in a memo?"

  Geanie pretended to stagger back in shock. "Wait, are you open to dating? Actually open? Because, you know, I'm not a bad matchmaker if I do say so myself."

  Cindy could just imagine what sorts of guys Geanie would try to match her up with. She wasn't sure she was quite desperate enough to risk it. "Hold that thought, Yente."

  She almost laughed at Geanie's deflated expression.

  "Thanks for getting me here. I officially release you from your transporter duties," she said instead.

  Geanie glanced at her watch. "I've got another fifteen minutes to get you comfortable before your sitter arrives."

  "My sitter? What on earth are you talking about?"

  "Well, Joseph and I discussed it and you really do get into quite a lot of trouble when left to your own devices. So, he's coming over here when I leave to watch you and get you anything you need while you rest."

  "I don't need a sitter."

  "Do you want me to call that nice police detective and get his opinion on the topic?"

  "No!"

  "Then I suggest you behave," Geanie said with a smirk."Now, can I help you get into some pajamas?"

  "I think I can manage."

  "You ever had your arm immobilized before?"

  "No."

  "Then you can't. Let's go."

  Fifteen minutes later Cindy was in her pajamas and on the couch with a blanket and pillow. The doorbell rang and Geanie flew to open the door. She gave Joseph a huge kiss, which he laughingly returned. Then he came in and observed Cindy.

  "I brought provisions," he said, holding up a grocery bag in one hand and several DVDs in the other.

  "At least we won't starve or need to resort to watching reruns of game shows," Cindy joked.

  "Joseph thinks of everything," Geanie said, blushing as she said his name. "Okay, I've got to run, but I'll be back later tonight. Call if you need anything. Either of you."

  "We will," Cindy and Joseph chorused together.

  Joseph closed and locked the door after Geanie when she left and turned to Cindy with a grin. "Isn't she amazing?"

  "She is. I'm just glad that you're paying attention."

  "Trust me. I am," he said, sobering quickly.

  Cindy was taken aback by the transformation. Joseph carried the groceries into the kitchen. "Can I get you something to eat or drink or some crackers to settle your stomach?"

  "No, thank you."

  "When is it time for your next dose of Tylenol?"

  "Not for another three hours."

  He brought her a glass of ice water.

  "I said I wasn't thirsty," she protested.

  "That's what you said, but trust me, I know how dehydrated a person can get without even realizing it when they're under stress."

  He was right. She'd only had a couple of sips of water early that morning. She took the glass and began to drink it slowly, resting between sips.

  Joseph settled into a chair and looked her over. "How are you?"

  "I'm okay, really. Everyone's making a fuss for nothing."

  "Uh-huh. Tell that to someone who believes it."

  "My shoulder hurts, but no permanent damage done."

  "How's Larson?"

  "He's going to be okay, too."

  "That's a relief. I keep going over the last few days in my mind and there's one thing I can't decide."

  "What's that?" she asked.

  "Which one of us is the psycho magnet?"

  "I don't think I understand."

  "Until last year you and I both lived rather quiet, straightforward lives. Now, three separate killers have wreaked havoc in our lives. I realize you were much more on the front lines the first time around than I was, but the Passion Week Killer invaded my property, hurt people there. I just started thinking that I'm cursed. It makes me worry about Geanie, about what might happen to her now that she and I are close."

  Cindy's heart ached for Joseph. "I'm so sorry, Joseph. It's me. I'm the psycho magnet."

  He shook his head. "The second killer was targeting my friends and colleagues and using me to get to them. I'm one of the board members standing in the way of the current killer and people are dying because of it. Both the second and the third killers you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. At least once because of me."

  "Joseph, please, you're scaring me," Cindy whispered.

  "Not half as much as I'm scaring myself," he admitted.

  "It's not you. It can't be," she said. "And it's not me either.These things, they would be happening despite us. If you weren't on the board there would still be those who oppose the sale."

  "True."

  "Come on, you're always the optimistic, laid-back one," she begged. "What's wrong?"

  He dropped his head into his hands for a moment and then slowly looked up at her. "I guess I'm just worried because I'm really happy right now and I don't want anything to ruin that.I'm also contemplating . . . a life change. And when a man does that he begins to think of all sorts of things, like the safety and well-being of others."

  "What sort of life change, Joseph?"

  He bit his lip and then looked at her. "You know, it's funny.I know a lot of people. I'm friends with a lot of people. And yet, none of them are what I'd consider good, close friends. In fact, you're probably the best friend I have."

  She stared at him stunned, unsure what to say. "I'm honored, Joseph. I consider you one of my closest friends, too."

  What he had said rattled her. Aside from him and Geanie, she didn't have many people she actually would consider close either. Even having friends means risking something, she realized.

  "So, I guess if I'm going to talk about this with anyone, by rights it should be you," Joseph said.

  "You can tell me anything."

  "I'm thinking of asking Geanie to marry me."

  Cindy stared at him for a moment and then squealed in delight. "That's wonderful!"

  He smiled and it lit up his eyes. "It is, isn't it? I mean, I finally found the perfect woman for me. And to think, she was right under my nose for so long. I even have you to thank for bringing us together really."

  "Glad to do it," Cindy said, unable to fight back the tears.

  "So now, I'm thinking. I love her more than anything. I want to be with her. But am I cursed? Is she going to get killed?"

  "Joseph. You say I'm your best friend."

  "Yes."

  "Look at how much danger I've been in in the past year, the number of times I could have been killed."

  "Yeah."
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  "I'm still here. Look at your dog, Clarice, who I know means the world to you. Look how much danger she was in and she's fine, too."

  "That's true."

  "You can't protect those you care about from danger. You can just be with them when they go through it. And people don't die while God's not looking. It's terrible and tragic, but if it was Geanie's time to go, she could just as easily be killed in a car crash in Pennsylvania as she could by a killer invading your life. Easier, actually."

  Joseph shuddered and a weight seemed to lift offhis shoulders."I guess you're right. I've been giving the evil in this world too much power and God too little. Thank you."

  "You're welcome."

  "And you know what else?"

  She shook her head.

  "You've done the same."

  She stared at him, stunned.

  "Best friends are honest with each other, yes?"

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  "You've worked so hard to build a safe little life for yourself where nothing and no one could hurt you. But you of all people should know that you can't control everything. You can't stop accidents from happening or fate from intervening.I think we've connected in this last year because for the first time, you've started living life instead of running from it."

  And now she was crying in earnest, great shuddering sobs that wracked her body and wrenched her heart.

  Joseph knelt down and put an arm around her. "It's okay.I'm here."

  Jeremiah picked up his phone in the office. "Hello?"

  "Hi, it's Cindy."

  She sounded shaky, like she had been crying. He took a deep breath, not sure he was ready to deal with whatever she had to say.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Larson wanted me to call and let the synagogue know what happened to him. Apparently he left a very vague message earlier this morning."

  "Marie said something about him not being able to be a counselor because he was in the hospital."

  "That's true. So, maybe not as vague as he thought."

  "What's wrong with him?" Jeremiah asked. He really should go out and make a visit if it was anything serious. It was expected.

  "He was shot last night."

  "What?" Jeremiah roared, rising to his feet.

  "He's going to be okay. The killer got him in the shoulder.He's going to be in the hospital for a few days, though. His son is staying with his grandmother for the duration, but I'm sure they could use some support."

  "What happened?" Jeremiah asked.

  "I warned him last night that he could be in danger since he was one of the board members opposed to the sale of Green Pastures. When we were leaving the coffee shop we were attacked."

  "Were you shot?" Jeremiah asked.

  "No, just a dislocated shoulder. I was lucky."

  Lucky. She has the strangest concept of luck. She was nearly killed.

  And I wasn't there to protect her.

  "Are you still in the hospital?"

  "No, I got home about an hour ago. Geanie came to get me and Joseph's staying with me."

  It should have been me staying with her.

  "Is there anything you need?"

  "No."

  "You take care of yourself, get some rest, you hear?"

  "I'm going to take a nap and then later on check in with Mark."

  "Why do you need to check in with Mark?"

  "I have a meeting tonight with my Realtor who is also Max Diamond's Realtor and I'm wondering if I should feel him out."

  Something inside him snapped.

  "Cindy, what are you thinking? You're not a police officer.It's not your job to hunt down criminals."

  "But if I can help—"

  "You're a church secretary. That's what you are. That's all you are. You need to stop thinking of yourself as Nancy Drew."

  There was silence on the other end of the line. He knew he had hurt her; he could feel it. But he couldn't stop himself. She had to stop putting herself in the line of fire.

  "All you're going to do is get yourself killed and leave the rest of us to deal with the mess."

  When she spoke again her voice was strangled sounding."Thank you for expressing how you really feel. It seems to be a day for that. I'm sorry that I've been an inconvenience and a burden. I won't trouble you with my concerns any more. Please pass on to Marie the information about Larson. He deserves to have his church and his rabbi supporting him at a time like this. You don't need to concern yourself with me. I've got people from my church who care. That is enough for me. Good day, Rabbi Silverman."

  She hung up the phone and he slammed his receiver down into the cradle and glared at it.

  She's going to get herself killed. What is she thinking? Does she think she can take these risks because I'll be there to look after her, to shoot the bad guy for her? I won't anymore. I can't. This is not how my life is supposed to go. I'm a rabbi and that's all I am; that's all I can be. Rabbis don't go around solving crimes. The biggest mysteries they have to solve are matters of scriptural interpretation and whose Passover dinner invitations to accept.

  He rose to his feet and stormed out of his office. Marie looked up at him timidly.

  "I'm going to the hospital to see Larson. He was shot. The grandmother's taking care of his child. Call whoever you call and get some food arranged for them."

  "Okay," Marie said, voice barely a whisper.

  He broke the speed limit driving to the hospital, but he was past caring. He tried to cool down. He was a rabbi and rabbis didn't march into hospital rooms of injured parishioners and scream at the top of their lungs.

  What's wrong with me? Why can't I pull it together? I never had problems controlling myself in the past.

  Then again, he'd never had to exert so much control for so long before. Everything was a lie. Every word, every action was carefully studied and measured for effect. He couldn't just be himself and the mask that he had so carefully constructed was cracking, revealing the real him piece by piece. It was intolerable and he didn't know how to handle it. Everyone thought that starting over was easy, but it wasn't. Some habits, some desires never died. They just went underground and built up pressure.

  Like a volcano.

  He parked at the hospital and made himself take several deep, calming breaths before going inside. He was no good to Larson in the condition he was in. No good to himself.

  Finally he got out of the car, still focusing on taking the long, deep breaths. He crossed the parking lot, forcing himself to observe the tactile sensations. He thought about the feel of the breeze on his face, the smell of the cars, the feel of the asphalt beneath his shoes and the rubbing of his socks against his toes. He willed himself to be in the moment, experiencing only that which was tangible and real. And when he walked into the hospital he was able to smile at the nurse on duty and ask for Larson Beck's room number.

  When he got upstairs he found an officer stationed outside Larson's room, fortunately no one he knew.

  "Rabbi Silverman," he said.

  The officer nodded. "You're on the approved list."

  Jeremiah walked in.

  Larson was asleep, his face contorted in pain. His shoulder was bandaged with enough gauze that he looked a bit like a mummy. There was a half-eaten Jell-O cup on the tray in front of him.

  Jeremiah sat down in the chair and forced himself to look at the man.

  He was almost killed leaving a meeting with Cindy. A meeting Cindy called and invited me to. A call I ignored.

  He should have known better. Every time he tried to ignore a call from Cindy something terrible happened.

  Why would someone want to hurt Larson? He's a kind man, a generous man.

  There were only two possible solutions. Either it was a random attack or an act of desperate people. Given the other acts of desperate people that had resulted in two deaths in the last several days he couldn't convince himself that the attack was random.

  And, somehow, random didn't happen to Cindy. Cha
os and terror and violence happened to Cindy, but it was never random. Why was that? Why did she always seem to be the center of a cyclone? Cyclone Cindy.

  It frightened him. Every time he interacted with her she helped chip away more of his mask. Being around her wasn't safe for either of them. But staring at Larson he realized that being apart wasn't necessarily a good idea either.

  She's a meddling amateur, in over her head. But she never asked for the things that have happened to her to happen. It's not her fault people kill each other. Adonai, what is the plan for her? For me?

  Larson groaned and his eyes fluttered open. He forced a smile. "Hello, Rabbi."

  "Larson. How are you feeling?"

  "Like I was kicked by a mule."

  "I'm not surprised. It looks like you were kicked by a mule."

  "Well, then at least there is balance."

  Balance. That was exactly what was missing from Jeremiah's life. Still, he forced himself to smile and talk to Larson about what happened, his recovery, his family. He stayed for half an hour and when he left he knew that he had provided Larson comfort, though he had found none for himself.

  Driving away from the hospital, he decided to go home. It was past four and he couldn't bring himself to look at Marie again and remember what he had said to her.

  Like it or not, Green Pastures seemed to be at the center of every drama that was present in his life. People were being killed for it. Kids were being disappointed because their counselor couldn't go.

  For three years Jeremiah had avoided going to Green Pastures despite many opportunities. It seemed that anytime someone wanted a retreat they wanted to have it there and they insisted on inviting him. He had turned down dozens of invitations from members of the synagogue as well as from leaders of other synagogues who were having leadership and rabbinical retreats at the campground. Numerous scout troops had asked for blessings as they traveled to the campsite up in the mountain. Donations were constantly being made for the camp and there wasn't a month went by that he didn't hear about some event happening there.

  Still, he had managed to avoid actually stepping foot onto the site itself. He had encouraged the charitable giving, helped find scholarships for kids to go, and pushed people into volunteering their time all while remaining safely in Pine Springs and not venturing into the woods outside.