When we finished our lamps, we put them in a bag they gave us to keep things in. Next, there were some worship songs and some clowns. We were all grouped around the stage in a vacant place left on the floor for that purpose. Some were sitting on the floor in front of the stage while others stood behind them. We moved to the music and laughed at the clowns. At least most of us did. Tiger Girl stood by her Dad near the wall with her arms crossed. She rolled her eyes while her Dad waved his hands in the air and tried to follow the sign language words the clowns were doing.
I whispered in Dad's ear, "I'll be right back."
I started across the room. Mr. Hugh started to follow. I shook my head at him. I came up beside Tiger Girl. I tapped her on the arm and signaled her to come with me. She shrugged and followed me. Her Dad kept singing, but his eyes followed us to the back of the room.
I sat at a table. She sat beside me.
"Look," I said. "I know you have the reds towards your Dad and maybe he deserves it, but things aren't always what they seem. At least they weren't at my house."
"How so?"
"My Dad tried writing to me for the last six years, but Mom sent all of his letters back without telling me. I thought he hated me and blamed me because he got caught with drugs while he was waiting for me outside my school. Then I found some circumstantial evidence and blamed my Mom for turning Dad in to the cops. Both times I was wrong. Why don't you give your Dad a chance? Even if he did something awful, hating him is eating you from the inside out. Dad's can change. Mine did. At first I didn't like the change. I thought he was wimping out when he started talking about being in God's corner. Now, I know better. Put your mad away and have fun. That doesn't mean you forget whatever it is he's done that makes you want to hurt him. It just means that you're a big enough person to give him another chance. And besides, the day won't drag on and on if you're having fun."
"So you say." That was all she said. But when she got back to her Dad, she sat down and watched the clowns. She even laughed.
A lady named Scottie Barnes was next on the program. She told us that her Dad had been in prison. She talked about how she felt lonely and unloved. She said she started One Day With God so that other children would not feel the way she did. "God asked me to help kids whose parents are in prison. Did you know that kids with parents in prison are seven times more likely to get in trouble with the law?" she asked. "We hope that kids, who get to spend time with their Dads and who know that their Dads love them, will turn away from behavior that could get them locked up. We know that when Dads love and pray for their kids, it covers a lot of messing up." Let me read you what the Bible says in I Peter 4. 'Love covers a multitude of sins.' Today is your day to love your Dad and let him love on you. I hope it changes your life."
After she gave her talk, she prayed for us. I peaked. Tiger Girl actually closed her eyes.
After Ms. Scottie prayed, she introduced our inspirational speaker for the event, Tyrann Mathieu, a safety for the Arizona Cardinals.
Tiger Girl's eyes got a big as saucers. She looked over at me. "That's the Honey Badger. He played for LSU," she mouthed.
I grinned. "I know," I mouthed back.
Tyrann started by telling us that he'd been where we are. "My Dad is in prison," he said, "has been for a long time now." He told how he had acted out and how Jesus had finally gotten to him. Tiger Girl was hanging on his every word.
"I guess she doesn't think he's a freak like she did Sue," I thought.
Afterwards, the Honey Badger signed footballs and gave them to us kids. He took pictures with us too. All of that was going on while we ate our lunches.
Some of the kids and Dads went outside and sat on the grass for lunch. We ate lunch at our table. The three families had kind of gotten to know each other. Mr. Hugh brought us our lunch. It had been cooked outside on some big barrel grills set up for the occasion. The other volunteers brought food to the Morrisons and the Calahans. We had just chowed down when Ms. Scottie picked up the mike.
"Zach Dejon, your family has arrived"
Everyone started clapping. Zach jumped up, spilling his drink all over the floor. A volunteer started mopping it up while Zach ran to the back and hugged the three kids who came through the door.
"In the 10 years since we started having camps at RCC, this is only the second time we've had all the children show up," Ms. Scottie said. She blew her nose and wiped her eyes. "Praise God," she said through a watery smile.
I looked at Tiger Girl and raised my eyebrows. She wrinkled her nose at me, but she smiled with her whole face, eyes and all.
After lunch, we got presents from our Dads. One thing all the boys got was a tie. The Dads had to teach us to tie them. It was hilarious. Shawn and Dad were laughing. "This was a lot easier last night when we practiced on each other," Dad said.
The girls all got a wrist corsage.
"Dads and daughters," Ms. Scottie announced as the men put the flowers on their daughter's wrists. "Most of you are going to miss sending your daughters to prom. Some of you may miss their wedding day. So right now, you get to dance with them."
The Dads led their daughters onto the floor as 'At Last' by Etta James poured out of the speakers. At first Tiger Girl was kind of stiff. Her Dad leaned down and said something in her ear. As Etta sang, "I found a dream that I could speak to," she smiled and rested her face on her Dad's chest. Ella crooned, "You smiled, you smiled and oh then the spell was cast." Mike planted a soft kiss of Kay's head. She looked up and locked eyes with him as the song continued, "And here we are in heaven for you are mine, at last."
When they stopped dancing near where I stood watching, I saw a tear glistening on purple face paint. I smiled. Mr. Hugh was right. What a difference a few hours can make.
After that, we had an hour to spend talking with our Dads. Ms. Scottie called it a time for forgiveness and new beginnings. Dads and kids spread out all over the chapel and the grounds. The volunteers had sort of melted away. As Dad and I started down the hall and out the doors, we saw the volunteers. They were in a classroom, standing in a prayer circle. All of them were praying at once. I knew that each volunteer was praying for his charges by name.
Dad and I found a bench outside under a tree. We sat down and turned to face one another with our knees touching.
"I know you said I don't need to ask your forgiveness, CW," Dad said. "But you are wrong. I made a mess of my life and set a terrible example for you. I screwed up a perfectly good marriage and shattered a family. I tried to find happiness in bottles and pills. I refused to consider that God was real and cared about me as a person. I thought He probably existed, but I didn't think he cared what men did with their lives or about this world he created. Now I know better. I asked your Mom's forgiveness when she came to visit. Now, I'm asking for yours. I want to be the Dad you needed, not the pal you thought would have your back when you first wrote to me."
"You've got it," I said.
"I need to hear the words."
"I forgive you, Dad. You may not have set the best example back then, but the life you're leading now speaks volumes." I cleared my throat. "I was mad when I got your letter, and you refused to tell me where the key to the Blue Ox was. I thought you had gone off the deep end talking about God and how Mom was right. There's something about lying in a hospital bed with your life being measured one heartbeat at a time that brings you face to face with reality. I'm trying the God thing again. In fact, I just prayed my way through the trial of the guys who hotwired your bike for me."
"How was it?"
"I was pretty terrified when my time came to testify, but Mom took me in a corner and prayed for me. She told me she'd be praying as long as I was on the stand, and that was a long time." Dad reached out and took the hands that I'd been twisting in my lap. I hadn't even realized I'd been doing it. As my hands stilled in his grasp, I smiled. "It was like just now. It was like God reached out and took my hands and soothed away all my fears."
"God's like that," he said. "The Bible says he gives 'the peace that passes understanding.' I'd say that about sums it up."
"Oh," I said. "I didn't get a chance to write you. A guy named Troy who was here years ago made me a model of the Blue Ox out of wood. The kickstand even works and there's a tiny key hanging from the ignition. I can even remove the key."
"There's a picture of a pirate ship he made in the library. It was in the Chainlink Chronicle a while back. How did you meet Troy?"
I told him the Troy story and how he visited me in the hospital and helped me decide to testify.
"You did the right thing, CW. I know it's hard because you're taught that turning in your friends is ratting. But you had to tell the truth. That's not ratting. It took me a while to figure that out. The prison culture doesn't exactly encourage truth telling, especially if it means getting a friend in trouble. I'm glad Troy learned that lesson and was there to give you the advice I couldn't."
"Yeah, he said he has a son at Angola. He wished that someone had talked frankly to him when he got caught up in a gang. Now that he's out, he tries to help other kids whose Dad's are locked up. He calls all inmates his brothers. He's going to teach me how to use your scroll saw as soon as my arm gets better."
Dad looked towards the sky. "Thank you, Jesus, for Troy. Bless him," He said simply.
"Amen," I said.
"Clarence said your sentencing for the joyriding charge is on the 10th of next month. How are you doing with not worrying about that?"
"I've been kind of preoccupied with the trial. Now that it's over and Jake and Marlow have been found guilty, my own fate is back in the forefront of my mind."
"I know it's easier said than done, but let it go, son. The worry, I mean. Worry doesn't add anything to your life except stress."
"Tell me about it."
"I just did." He laughed.
"I'll be praying for you every day. Would you like me to pray for you now?"
"Sure."
"God, this is my son CW. I know you know who he is because you brought him back from the brink of death. He's facing a few weeks of waiting to find out his fate for joyriding. Help him to give his anxiety about it to you. Give him a peace that his life is in your hands. Let him know that whatever happens, you'll walk with him through it and teach him something from it. Amen."
"Amen." I looked at Dad. "That prayer was sort of different than I expected. I liked that last part about Him walking through whatever happens with me and teaching me things. Is that what He's been doing with you while you're in here."
"It is. I was kind of a hard case. I've got a stubborn streak a mile wide. I don't like to ask for help or even admit I need it. He sort of had to put me where I didn't have much else to do but listen. Even then, it took years to get my attention and get me on the straight and narrow."
"Well, He got my attention with a bike wreck. I hope He doesn't feel like I need more schooling, this time at a detention center. I could get a year, you know."
"I know. And I have been praying that you can avoid that, but those weren't the words that God gave me just now."
"What do you mean God gave you the words?"
"The Bible tells us that the Holy Spirit knows what we need to pray, even when we don't. If we're praying and letting Him guide, the words that come out are the ones we need to pray."
"Oh, somebody told me that Holy Spirit causes you to pray in unknown tongues, not real words."
"Well, He can do that. Usually, He doesn't, though. Would it have taught you anything if I had prayed gibberish just now?"
"No, I guess not. I always thought that's what unknown tongues was, though, gibberish."
"No, it's not if God's behind it. I have friends who pray in what they call their prayer language. It is very comforting for them. But they don't do it in public, just when it's them and God. Tongues is a complex subject. If God wants you to use them, you'll know. But when it comes to helping a fellow believer, pray in English if that's the language they speak. God speaks to others through our voiced public prayers."
"I've been learning that."
"Glad to here it."
"Oh, I almost forgot. Why are you in a mentoring group that helps guys when they get out? Uncle Clarence said something about good time and you maybe getting out before I graduate."
"I am eligible to earn goodtime. That means I should only have to do half of my sentence behind bars. The other half I would do on probation. Unfortunately, I not only earn goodtime, I can lose it by breaking the rules. I broke some pretty important rules when I first came to prison. I lost a whole year of goodtime by getting into trouble."
"They took a whole year from you? What did you do"
"The didn't take a whole year at one time. I lost it several months at a time. Every loss was behind a dirty urine."
"So instead of doing 20 years, you only have to 11?"
"Maybe less. I can earn a year of goodtime for taking educational classes and substance abuse classes. That would get it back down to 10. I can also earn back the goodtime I loss by staying clean. After you're write-up free for two years, you can ask that your goodtime be restored. They don't usually restore it all at once, but you can apply again after a few months."
"So are you eligible to get your goodtime back?"
"I will be in two weeks. I'm just praying that I don't get some stupid write-up while I wait."
"Well you've been clean for years. How would you get a write-up?"
"Oh, you can get write-ups for all kinds of things. If an officer tells you to do something and you don't do it, he can write you up. If you're talking too loud in the TV room and the officer tells the room to hold the noise, and he thinks you're still too loud, you can be written up. There's all kinds of ways to get write-ups. Most of the officers are good about keeping piddlely write-ups to a minimum. But when there are new cadets, they sometimes go overboard."
"So if you earn a year of goodtime and get the year you lost back, you could get out in two years?"
"I could. Whether I earn that year back, I should make it to your graduation," he said with a grin.
Music began to play inside the chapel. "That's our cue to gather back inside," Dad said.
Guys and kids started converging on the building from around the yard. A man walked by carrying a giggling child with her arms twined around his neck. I stared. It was the little girl who had been throwing a fit this morning. Tiger Girl and Mike came around the corner, arm in arm.
I turned to Dad. "There are a lot of miracles happening today, aren't there."
"You bet," he said.
"Your bippy," I added.
I had told him about Mr. Sue's saying. We walked into the church laughing.
Hugh met us with a couple of helium balloons. "Ms. June will tell you what these are for," he said.
"When everyone was assembled and holding balloons," Ms. June picked up the mike. "Ms. Scottie had to leave to catch her flight to North Carolina. She hated to miss this final activity. It's usually the highlight of her day." The mike squealed. She stepped back and looked towards the back of the room. The man in the sound booth did something and gave her a thumbs up. She stepped back up to the mike. "Each of you have a balloon. The balloons represent all the unforgiveness and hard feelings that have built up over the years. Today we started the process of finding love and forgiveness where none existed before. We are going to go outside and release the balloons as a symbol of the things you let go of today as you talked."
We filed outside. A hush settled over the crowd. "Three, two, one, release," Ms. June said. We stood heads raised heavenward watching the balloons take flight. Dad had his arm around my shoulders. I looked over the crowd. All of the Dads and kids were touching. Tiger Girl was leaning back against her Dad with her eyes raised. Their hands were clasped by her side.
"Thank you, Jesus," I breathed softly.
"Amen," Dad echoed.
We all went back inside and gathered our stuff. The Dads took off their shirts and gave them to us. Dads and their kids had both signed the shirt as part of the day's activities. Underneath the Dads had on white t-shirts with numbers stenciled on them. One Day With God was over.
As we lined up and walked out, the Dads stood outside and waved. Tiger Girl handed me a piece of paper. "This is my information, you know phone and email and stuff. I thought maybe we could stay in touch." She offered me a blank piece of paper and a pen.
I laughed. "Why don't I speak, and you write?" I waved my broken arm at her. "If I write, we'll be here until tomorrow."
I gave her my info. "Where do you live?"
"Kenner. How about you?"
"Metairie. Maybe we can actually hook up some this summer. Transit is okay during the day."
When we got outside, the Moms descended. Tiger Girl waved as she and her Mom headed towards a car farther down the lot than ours.
"Who's that?" Mom asked.
"I think of her as Tiger Girl, but her name is really Kay, short for Makayla. She lives in Kenner."
"I know," Mom said. "I sat by her Mom in our session. Her name is Maya. She goes to the support group at Angel Tree Church. I guess the real name of the church is Bethany. She invited me to come. She's been trying to get Kay to try the teen group. Maybe the two of you could met up there."
"Maybe," I said.
Kay texted me the next day.
"K here u get home ok"
"o tiger girl yeah"
"cm"
I called. "I like that name, Tiger Girl," she said. "You can keep calling me that. Do you get the Picayune?"
"Yeah why?"
"Go get it and look at the Lifestyle section. And don't waste my time asking a lot of questions. Just do it."
I laughed. "Okay. Hold your roll."
I got the paper. On the front of the Lifestyle section was a picture of Tiger Girl leaning on her Dad, watching the balloons float away.
"Wow," I said. "That's a really cool picture. I forgot the paper was taking pictures there."
"Look below the article," she said. There were two pictures side by side. One was me and Dad hugging. Next to it was one of Tiger Girl and her Dad walking towards the chapel. Tiger had a sullen look on her face and her arms crossed. The caption said, "Dad and child reunions varied from enthusiastic to grim." A third picture showed Tiger and her Dad dancing with her face resting on his chest. The caption said, "What a difference a day can make. Love won out."
After that we talked most days. She had been sent to the Westbank to spend a couple of weeks with her grandparents while her Mom went to some training thing for her work. I explained about having to go to court and all. We agreed that when she got back and my future was decided, we'd try the support group.
"I haven't been big on church," she admitted. "But the things the Honey Badger said made sense. And Dad is into worship. I thought maybe I'd start with the group thingy and if it's okay, maybe I'll try a worship service. I'd feel better if you were there, though."
"Mom just remarried. She and Seth have decided that they need a church that belongs to both of them. They've been attending two different churches. Neither one of them feels at home in the other's church. Maybe I can get them to try Bethany."
"Cool."
That's how we started attending Bethany and how I first got roped into the support group thing. Neither one was too bad, especially when Tiger Girl was there.
Sentencing day finally arrived. I dressed in my nice clothes. Mom, Seth and Uncle Clarence came with me for moral support. They had all had interviews with the judge's staff as part of the sentencing phase. I turned my phone on and put it in my pocket so Tiger could hear the proceedings.
We all gathered in the courtroom. The judge looked over his spectacles. "Well, CW," he said. "It seems you have gone on quite a tear over the last few months." I gulped as he continued. "You've lied, cheated, drank and smoked behind your Mom's back, and that was before you decided to take your Dad's bike for an unauthorized spin. A young man is still recuperating in the hospital because of the joyriding disaster." He shook his head. "Lucky for you, you have a very supportive family, even the one behind bars."
"You talked to Dad?" I blurted in surprise.
"I did. I told you I needed time to examine your life. Since your non-relationship with him seemed to have triggered this whole debacle, I thought talking to him was important." He looked down at his notes. "The DA offered you a sentence that he felt was fair considering your willingness to testify and your change of heart. After reading the interviews of your family and teachers that my staff compiled, listening to your testimony in the trial of your buddies in crime, reviewing the tape of the accident, and talking with BJ, I have determined that the plea sentence is too harsh."
"Yes!" A voice erupted from my pocket.
"What was that?" the judge asked.
"Sorry, sir," I said. "A friend I made at the One Day with God camp at Rayburn Correctional Center is listening in by phone. She won't interrupt again," I finished, looking down as I said the last words.
He smiled. "I talked to your Dad after the camp. It sounds like a wonderful program. Anyway, this is my sentence. You will attend Anger Management Classes for six weeks. You will attend a support group for teens with incarcerated parents that meets at Bethany Church for a year. You will pick up trash on the side of the road in an orange jumpsuit for the next two weeks. Finally, I am giving you six months of probation. I am counting the time you spent in the hospital under guard, if not under arrest, as part of your probation. Therefore, you have served half of your time already. I wave the other three months of probation, as long as you follow through with the classes, the support group and the trash detail"
I couldn't believe it. I just sat and stared at the judge dumbfounded for a minute. I heard, "Say thank you," from my pocket. Everyone laughed.
"Thank you, sir," I said. "You won't regret it."
"I had better not, son. If you end up back in my courtroom, I'll throw the book at you."
I grinned. "Only a Crash Test Dummy would come back, and I'm no Crash Test Dummy."