Aunt Glory looked at me and raised her eyebrows. "Spill the beans," she said.
"You know that call from the prison I'm supposed to explain?"
"Yeah."
"Well, tomorrow is the big day."
"Great explanation there Forest Gump. Think you might want to add a bit of detail?"
"There's this camp called One Day with God where kids get to spend the day with their Dads at the prison. They have games, eats, worship, crafts, all kind of stuff going on. Anyway, Mom agreed to let me go, but the prison might nix it because I've been charged with misdemeanor joy riding. The committee that runs the program is meeting tomorrow, and I'm evidently on the agenda. They want to do a Skype interview with me at around 4 tomorrow."
"Patty agreed to let you go to the prison and spend the day with Paul?" She sounded incredulous.
"I guess you're out of the loop on this one. Mom went to see Dad at the prison. She decided that she had to judge for herself whether he'd really found God or was just faking it to earn goodtime. Evidently they get good time for going to some programs, including some religious ones. She also said something I didn't understand about there being no atheists in foxholes. I don't think foxes make a conscious choice about God."
Aunt Glory laughed. "That quote comes from, like, World War II, I think. During the war, the soldiers would dig holes to hide in; they were called foxholes. The idea was that when faced with a stressful situation like war, everyone believes in some kind of higher power. Your Mom was saying your Dad's in the kind of situation where people suddenly find belief. Unfortunately, when the situation changes for the better, that belief often evaporates."
"Oh, that makes sense."
"Maybe you need to pay more attention in history class."
"I don't think history teachers are supposed to talk about God. They probably leave that quote out of the history books. Anyway, Uncle Clarence told Mom that Dad had changed, and his letters sure sounded like it. I mean he actually lectured me about bouncing out of school early and told me that Mom was right about most things, including God and addiction. It was weird."
"So I take it she found his newfound faith to be genuine."
"Yeah." We were in the living room. I spotted the Chainlink Chronicle lying on a table. I picked it up and opened it to the back. "Look. He even gave the prison paper a copy of my church cartoon doodling." I pointed to the picture. "He keeps the original taped inside his locker. He said that when guys see it and ask about it, he gets to tell them the story of Jonah and how God used him even after he ran away."
She was smiling at the cartoon. "This is good," she said. "You captured the essence of the story in a few boxes and brought it into 21st century at the same time." She looked up. "The man you're describing sure doesn't sound like the Paul I knew. Even if it turns out to be a foxhole conversion, I'm glad your Mom talked things out with him. She needed to let go of the past and move on with her life. The anger she harbored towards Paul was unhealthy. In my book, forgiveness trumps bitterness every time."
I grinned. "Yeah, mine too. I've needed hefty doses of forgiveness lately."
Aunt Glory reached up and rumpled my hair like I was five. "Yeah, you have at that. But you're worth forgiving."
"Geez," I started.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," she cut in. "You're not in preschool anymore and hair caresses are juvenile." She grabbed me around the neck in a mock chokehold. "How's this for a hug, then?"
I laughed. "I accept a hug a day, but only with advance warning."
"Bah humbug," she said and kissed me on the check.
The next day I was antsy. I wondered what the committee was going to ask. Was the warden on the committee or would they just report to him? Was there any chance they'd let me in if adults with convictions were kept out? The questions were making an endless loop through my brain. I guess it was obvious because Aunt Glory came into the room where I was supposed to be studying.
"Look," she said. "I called your tutor and told her you were taking two days off for the wedding instead of one. We're outta here."
"Where are we going?"
"Don't worry. We'll be back before four. Just get in the car and get with the program."
She drove to the laser tag place.
"You against me," she said. "Take out some of that angst trying to cream your auntie who happens to be an ace laser tag player."
She beat the tar out of me, even though she should have been easy to spot. She didn't even take out her diamond earrings. I told her it was because I had to shoot with my left hand. She just snorted. "Whatever."
When we got back outside. She drove us to Bumble Lane, Mom's spa place. "This place is for girls," I said.
"Come on." She got out and slammed her door. As we walked in, she pointed to one side. "Why do you think they have a men's shower room? Just so they won't be accused of gender discrimination? I think not. Men need to relax, too."
She turned her attention to the woman behind the desk. "I know we don't have an appointment, but this young man is stressed out. He really needs to relax, and I know you have wonderful masseuses. Can you fit him in?"
"Let me see," one girl said, punching some keys on her computer.
The other girl looked quizzically at Aunt Glory. "Weren't you just here, with the bride?"
"Yeah, I was." She grinned and put her hand up to her mouth and said in an exaggerated whisper. "That was his Mom."
"O-o-oh. New step-dad stress." The other girl was frowning at the computer. Aunt Glory's new friend touched the other girl on the arm. "If everyone is booked, I'll take him. You can hold down the fort out here, can't you? It's pretty slow."
"Sure." Computer girl looked relieved. "We're sort of short handed, at least when it comes to walk-ins. All our appointments are covered."
The volunteer masseuse held out her hand. "I'm Summer. You don't have any objection to a female doing your massage, do you?"
I shook the proffered hand and grinned. "No, way. This is my lucky day."
"Slow your roll," Aunt Glory said. "This is a professional establishment not some back ally fly by night place."
Summer laughed. "He'll be so relaxed when I get through with him, he'll forget all those naughty thoughts."
I turned red all the way to the top of my scalp.
"He's not long out of the hospital," Aunt Glory shared. "Go easy on him. His cracked ribs are healing and his bruises don't show, but he's pretty tender."
"And avoid the right arm," I added, holding up my cast.
"Got it," Summer said. "He gets the old Geezer version for people with brittle bones and such."
The next item on auntie's itinerary was a late lunch. She pulled into Logan's Steakhouse. "You need a man-sized steak. I'm sure red meat gives you courage and fortitude."
I laughed. "You'll get no argument from me."
Finally, she pulled into Salvation Army. "You need appropriate attire, and I saw just the thing when we were here the other day."
"When were you here?"
"Where do you think I got that vintage dress I wore to the wedding?"
"You shopped here for wedding threads?"
"Why not? I didn't want the cookie cutter stuff you get at the mall. My wardrobe is full of secondhand chic. And I do give it panache, if I do say so myself."
She headed straight for a rack of men's t-shirts and pulled out a purple number and waved it grandly. "Voile."
On the front left hand side was a logo with three crosses in a box with the words Forgiven Ministry underneath. Aunt Glory turned the shirt so I could see the back. There was a huge white circle with the words 1 Day with God inside.
I stared at the shirt. "Don't you think that might be overkill?"
"No way. It just shows how gung ho you are."
I knew I wasn't going to win this argument. The logo on the front wasn't too large, and the committee never even had to see the back. I caved, and we bought the shirt.
We got home with 15 minutes to spare.
"Now wasn't that better than sitting around here worrying?" Aunt Glory asked.
"Yeah. You know how to defuse worry. Were you ever on a bomb squad?"
"No, but I was a volunteer on a hotline for runaways and kids in trouble for a while? I learned that kid stress is real and needs outlets."
I set up the computer on the desk in the study so that there was a wall of books behind me. Mom was into books, and I had quite the fantasy collection myself. I sat nervously in a chair and watched the computer clock announce the minutes. 4:01, 4:02... At 4:15 my Skype account rang.
I answered in video mode.
"Hello."
"Hello. CW?" The speaker was a tiny gray-haired lady with really blue eyes. "My name is Ms. June. I've been in contact with your mother. Since you answered this call, I assume she filled you in."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Let me introduce our committee. To my right is Ms. Mable, and to my left is Mr. Shawn." They each waved when she said their names. She turned her camera. At the end of the table is Warden Booth.
"Howdy," he said.
"Oh no," I thought. He sounds like a good old country boy.
"Afternoon," I said aloud.
"I'm going to be honest with you, CW," June said, turning the camera away from the warden. I guess he didn't want me reading his facial expressions. "We have to decide whether to allow you to attend One Day with God. There will be a lot of vulnerable children there. We have to do what is best for everyone. You and your father can't be our only consideration."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Adults who have been convicted of a crime and are serving a sentence are not allowed to visit in prisons. They usually have to be a year beyond conviction before they can apply to be allowed to visit. However, you are not an adult. Children are not routinely screened before they are allowed to visit. We only know of your conviction because your parents told us. They think that a day inside the chainlink fence might help you decide to turn your life around. It would give your father a chance to give you advice that he normally could only give in a letter. We all know that face time, and not the kind we're engaging in now, is more effective than a letter. So we're going to talk to you a little before we make our decision."
"Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate the opportunity to make my case."
"Tell us about your brush with the law," Shawn said.
"I got mad at my Mom and flashed out," I admitted. "I wanted to hurt her because she wouldn't let me come to Angel Tree and then she put a camera in my crib while we were on vacation. She didn't leave it there when we got back, but still, she told me my crib was clean when it wasn't. Some of my friends and I hotwired Dad's bike and took it for a joyride. It was supposed to be an act of defiance, just to stick it to Mom, you know. But it didn't turn out that way. We hit a guy on a bicycle. They thought he was going to die, but he finally came out of the coma a week ago." I leaned forward and held up my arm. "I'm still recovering from my injuries, but I'm doing great compared to him. He's going to be in the hospital for a long time."
Mable leaned forward and peered into the camera. "Does your shirt say Forgiven Ministry?"
I turned red. "Yeah," I said. "I got it at Salvation Army. It even says One Day with God on the back. I'm practicing."
"A boy almost died and you got off with misdemeanor joyriding?" the Warden said.
"The guys I was with were 18. They had stolen drugs in the saddlebags. The cops also suspected them of some B&Es in the neighborhood. They wanted to make sure that they got a conviction. I had some information that they thought would be helpful so they charged me with the misdemeanor in exchange for my testimony. I didn't want to rat out my homies, but I talked to a guy named Troy. He used to be in your prison. He makes really cool wooden models. He told me that telling the truth is not ratting. He said he has a son at Angola. He was giving me the advice he hadn't been able to give his son."
"How do you know Troy?" June asked. "He's a very talented man."
"He has a wood shop not far from my house. He sent a wooden P to Dad for me. When I told him where it was going, he told me he'd been locked up in the same prison for a long time. He saw the article in the paper about my wreck and came to see me. He's going to teach me to use Dad's scroll saw as soon as I get this cast off."
"What did you learn from this experience?" the Warden asked.
I thought for a moment. "I learned that your parents really do have your best interest in mind when they make rules and decisions about your life. I learned that acting out while you're angry easily leads to bad decisions. I learned that guys who seem shady probably are. And I learned that God is like Mom; He loves me even when I screw up. He is always willing to give you another chance if you want to make things right."
"Wow," Shawn said. "That sounds like some heavy stuff."
"When you're laying in bed listening to your life one beep at a time, you sort of think heavy thoughts," I said. "I imagine God's going to have to reinforce those lessons from time to time, but right now they're clear as a bell."
"It sounds like God got your attention," Mable said.
"Is there anything you'd like to add?" June asked.
"Just one thing. I haven't seen or heard from my Dad for six years. That wasn't his fault or mine. Mom finally went to see Dad while I was in the hospital. She said Dad is becoming the man she had hoped for when she married him, not the addict she remembers. They won't ever get back together. She just got remarried, but that doesn't mean I can't have a father-son relationship with him. My last memories of Dad aren't good. I hope you'll decide to let me replace them with better memories, this time between Dad and God and me."
They said their good-byes and told me they would get back to us with their decision. I turned off the computer and turned toward Aunt Glory. She had been sitting in a corner, off camera. She was dabbing her eyes.
"What?" I asked.
"You know your Mom and me. We get all mushy at the drop of a hat. But CW, I think what you said at the end was the clincher. There's no way they're gonna say no to that."
"Do you think they thought I was trying to manipulate them?"
"No way. You sounded sincere. You couldn't have come across any better."
"And you're not biased, either."
She laughed. "I tried to watch with an open mind, be objective like a good reporter. Fair and balanced, dude, fair and balanced."
"Don't go quoting Fox to back up an open mind claim. Like they don't have a right-leaning bias."
I thought maybe the committee would call back when they adjourned from their meeting, but they didn't. Mom was the one that Skyped me.
"I thought you promised you'd report in after you talked to the committee," she said.
"Geez, Mom. It's only 5. I was waiting to see if the committee would call back at the end of their meeting and give me a thumbs up."
"They won't," she said. "June told me that the head warden talks things over with his security and rehab wardens before he makes a final decision. It could be several days before we get an answer. This could be a long weekend for them with Presidents Day on Monday, so it could be quite a wait. Now tell me about the interview."
"They just asked me about my charge and the circumstance and stuff. They asked me what I'd learned from all of this and let me make a statement at the end. Aunt Glory said I did good. She even had her Kleenex out."
Mom laughed. "You didn't oversell, did you?"
"Not according to Aunt Glory, but I'm not sure she's able to be objective."
"She's definitely already in your corner. I take it you explained things to her before the interview."
"Yeah, I did. She said it was about time you let your anger go or something like that."
Mom smiled. "That sounds like her, too. So were you on pins and needles all day waiting for the call?"
"I started out that way, but Aunt Glory decided she'd nip that in the bud. She called off school and rehab and took me out for a stress-relief day."
"I should have known she'd blow your schedule. So how did she relieve your stress?"
"First she creamed me at laser tag. Then she took me to a masseuse, a hottie named Summer, at your spa." Mom rolled her eyes. "After that it was steak at Logan's and then shopping at her favorite boutique, Salvation Army." I sat up straight so she could see my shirt and then turned around and showed her the back. "Can you believe she found this when she was shopping for wedding threads?"
Mom grinned. "She always pulls out anything that's purple and looks at it. I swear almost everything she owns has purple in it somewhere. And, yes, I can believe she found it. She has a nose for these things. I think clothing calls to her, even when she doesn't know why. I mean I hadn't told her I was thinking about sending you to One Day with God and yet she goes to that rack like a homing pigeon. She wasn't even shopping for men's stuff."
I laughed. "She said she was on the way to the change room and passed the men's t-shirts. She couldn't resist the bright purple."
"If June calls, I'll let you know. Otherwise, we can touch base around bedtime every night."
"I'm not five, Mom. Forget about me and do what honeymooners are supposed to do. I can go a few nights without contact."
Mom sighed. "I suppose, but I'm used to at least hollering night through your closed door."
"Think of it as practice for when I move out."
"Okay. I'll stay out of your hair. As to the rest of what you implied, I don't discuss my sex life with my son." She winked.
"Eww." I gagged. "I hope not."