Abundant Rain Read online

Page 7


  Ronda gave her an uncertain look. “I-I’m not sure.”

  Elizabeth raised her hand. “Look, I’m not suicidal, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Ronda laughed. “Actually, that’s exactly what I was worried about,” she confided.

  “Death is not what I crave anymore. I’m going to live,” she pronounced out loud. In her heart she said, without Kenneth. Her heart finally accepted that she could live in a world that did not include the man who had claimed her love. As long as the One who claimed her soul was a part of this world, she would stay. “But I need to figure out what living means to me. I’m just not content with mere lung activity anymore.” She turned back toward the window and stared longingly at a world she was apart of, but still did not know. “I need to know what’s out there. You know, smell some roses or something.”

  Ronda ran her thumb along the gold chain around her neck. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Being given a second chance at life is like waking from the dead isn’t it?”

  Elizabeth cocked her head and rubbed her chin. “In a way that’s true, but it’s much more for me. Not only have I been given a second chance at life – I feel like I’ve been given a second chance with God. And that feels like waking from a fate worse than death. It’s like climbing out of the pit of hell.”

  Ronda fidgeted around the room, wrote a few notes on Elizabeth’s chart, looked around the room, then played with her gold chain some more. Elizabeth could tell something was on her mind. She just wished Ronda would spit it out.

  Finally Ronda spoke, “I know that you are getting out of here today, Elizabeth, but I wanted to invite you to a Bible study I attend on Mondays.”

  “I have Bible study at my church on Wednesday evenings.” Elizabeth lowered her head and confessed, “With my tour schedule, I don’t get to attend very much, though.”

  “This is different than Bible study,” Ronda told her. “It’s for people with dependency issues.”

  Elizabeth put her hand on her hips and turned to face her nurse. “Just because I took a few pills does not mean that I’m a dope addict.”

  Ronda twirled her short, layered hair. “These classes are not just for people dependent on drugs. Elizabeth, you could be addicted to your career, dependent on men – it’s anything that you rely on more than God. Those are the things we need to be delivered from.”

  Well, she had depended on Kenneth, more than she had on God. Wasn’t that why she was in the hospital, because she didn’t know how to cope with life without Kenneth? “Let me think about that,” Elizabeth told her as she pulled off her hospital robe. “Do I have any regular clothes in here?”

  ***

  Clouds hung in the sky just waiting to release the rain that had become commonplace in Elizabeth’s life. The chrysanthemums and tulips bloomed nicely, much different than last year’s tulips and lilacs. The air was dry last year. Grass turned to straw and flowers wilted under the heat. Like those tulips, she had wilted under the heat.

  The wind blew softly as she bent down to take in the fragrance of a flower – up close and personal. She smiled. Even the smell of this simple flower made her think of God. She couldn’t get away from Him now. “You created this beautiful thing,” she said, head tilted upward, toward her God. The wind blew harder. Lightning slithered through the heavens. She sniffed the air, taking in the clean smell of the soon coming rain. She sat on the ground next to the flowers that bloomed so beautifully and the oak tree, so sturdy and magnificent. If the rain never came, she would not be able to enjoy the beauty of nature or the wonder of God’s creation. The rain must fall. But even if it fell in abundance, the afterglow of the wind and the waves, the roar of thunder and the crackle of lightning brought forth the rainbow. No pot of gold waited for her beneath all those colors, but something much more important.

  Elizabeth sat on the ground and remembered the storms that shot through the small two-bedroom house she lived in as a child. Storms liked the nighttime best. When they came, she would run to her parents’ bed and snuggle under the covers. Her mom would hold her and say, “Don’t be scared, baby. The rain is just God’s way of washing away the old to make way for the new.”

  “But it’s so much rain, Mama,” she would whimper as she snuggled closer to her mother.

  Lillian would squeeze her a little tighter and rub her hair. “Sometimes the rain falls in abundance, baby. Sometimes, one area receives more rain than another, until it can’t take another drop. But when the sun shines through, we forget the wrath of the rain.”

  When the rain stopped, and loud booms and slithering streaks of light no longer controlled the night, her mother would nudge her and say, “You hear that?”

  “I don’t hear anything, Mama.”

  Her mother kissed her softly on the forehead. “That’s right, baby. ‘Cause when God wipes away all the old bad stuff, there’s no need for noise. Newness brings peace, and with peace comes a sweet quietness.”

  Tears brimmed the edges of Elizabeth’s eyes as she thought of the storms she had weathered. She released the tears. How right her mother was! God had given peace to her soul. Rain splattered on her head. Instead of running for cover, Elizabeth welcomed it. She reveled in it. What could be the harm in a storm that ushered in newness and sweet, sweet peace?

  She stood, and stretched out her arms. The thunder roared and she roared right back as she stood in the midst of the storm. This was her baptism, her rebirth. She smiled as she declared to God, “I love You, Lord. There is none like You.”

  I’ve been waiting for you, Elizabeth.

  The voice she heard was that of a whisper. She didn’t need to wonder who had spoken to her. It was God. His voice couldn’t be heard by human ears. No, God’s voice could only be heard with the heart. “I need You. I can handle anything as long as You are with me.”

  The wind blew stronger, angry. The thunder roared at her again, but Elizabeth stood planted. Never would she run from the storm again.

  Visitors and hospital employees frantically scurried for cover. Ronda grabbed her arm. “Come on, we’ve got to get inside.”

  Around her, people tried to escape the rain. Hurry, hurry, hurry, was etched across their faces. Children were screaming and crying. Ronda was holding Elizabeth’s arm. Her brown eyes darted back and forth. Worry lines stretched across her mocha chocolate face. What was she worried about? The slither appeared in the sky again. Ronda looked at the sky and then at the tree that stood a few feet away. “We’re not going to get struck by lightning,” Elizabeth told her.

  She pulled at Elizabeth again. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’d rather not stand out here and discover that your prediction was wrong.”

  Elizabeth brought her arms down and allowed herself to be tugged through the hospital doors. She wanted to alleviate Ronda’s fear. Wanted to tell her that storms are different when God rides the waves with you.

  As soon as they entered the hospital, the rain stopped. Elizabeth walked over to the window. Ronda followed her. “Let me get you to your room so you can put on some dry clothes.”

  “Do you hear anything outside?”

  Ronda looked around, then shrugged. “No, I don’t hear anything. It’s not raining anymore.”

  “I know. After the rain, God brings peace.”

  12

  Kenneth was on his way home. The word sounded alien to him. In truth, he still had no idea where home was. His memory was still lost in the fog of his mind with only occasional glimpses at the life that once belonged to him. That life was terrifying, to say the least. His wife was a she-devil, who apparently lived to torment him. And to add insult to injury, that demon tried to commit suicide over her gay lover.

  She was undoubtedly a selfish, inconsiderate woman. She never gave a second thought about his children when she decided to do a nosedive into hell. “Well, that’s it. I’m going to collect my children, and may God have mercy on my wife’s wicked soul.”

  Debra offered to pay for his plane ticket, but he
r betrayal had sickened him. He didn’t want anything from her. Nor could he bear to be in her presence more than the time it took to pack his meager belongings. He wanted nothing more from her, nothing but to be left alone. Let her find herself another lucky charm. She was too crazy for him anyway. After all this time, she still didn’t realize that God was the giver of gifts. Now that he thought about it, he should have made Debra rent him a car. They owed him that much. Pride and anger sent him tearing out of the house of his captors without a backward glance.

  Kenneth felt as if he were at enmity with everyone. So, he decided to do penance to God by hitchhiking to Atlanta and telling everyone he met about the God he served.

  As the rain beat down on his black windbreaker, he wondered if he had lost his mind, in addition to his memory. He had been thrown out of three cars already. The one at the Jersey Turnpike was still moving when he was told to go. Apparently, the name Jesus on the lips of a hitchhiker screamed lunatic to some people. Now he walked the roads of Richmond. Actually, today, they were muddy roads. His stonewashed jeans and used-to-be white tennis shoes could testify to that.

  Kenneth desperately wished to turn back time and snatch the money for his plane ticket out of Debra’s lying, conniving hands. He would have been in Atlanta by now, in pursuit of his children, so he could rescue them from that twisted excuse for a mother. Instead, taking a mud bath in Richmond, he wiped raindrops from his eyelids and drizzle from his nose. Kenneth decided that this tell-every-stranger-you-meet-about-Jesus idea of his was for the birds.

  A red Sunbird with tinted windows pulled up along side him, just as he was about to give up and find shelter. The driver rolled her window down. Kenneth noticed her fiery red hair and reddish-brown skin as she yelled, “It’s pouring out here. Do you need a ride?”

  “I sure do.” Kenneth jumped in the car. “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” she told him. “Where are you headed?”

  “Atlanta.”

  “Well, I’m going as far as Chattanooga. If that’s okay, you’re welcome to ride.”

  Was she kidding? “Thanks, I appreciate the lift.” He started feeling bad about being so weak. How could he give up on God’s Word so quickly? Because you prefer a dry car to a wet and muddy road, that’s how, he told himself. He rationalized that no one would be on the road anyway. With all this rain, common sense folks would be at home. He knew it was true, still his lips curved into a frown at the thought of missed opportunities.

  She turned to face him, when she stopped at the light. “Oh, by the way, my name is Faith.”

  Kenneth undid his frown and smiled like a sixteen year-old boy on his first unchaperoned date. “What a coincidence,” he told her, “I’m of the faith.”

  ***

  Tommy strolled into Visions with one thought – find himself some used-to-be-fresh meat. He didn’t care if it came free or had a ‘for sale by owner’ sign on it. He sat down at the bar and scanned the crowd.

  “What’ll it be, mister?” the beer-bellied bartender asked, while pouring beer into a mug for a customer on the opposite end of the bar.

  “Bacardi.” The bartender fixed the drink and put it on the table. Tommy grabbed his drink, took a big gulp. “Aaaah.” He hadn’t had an honest drink in over two years. The taste was soothing, like coming home. “Hit me again.”

  He turned to face the crowd. The party was jumping. Sistahs with good jobs and no men were finger popping on the expansive dance floor. The dance lights flashed across the room. Tommy got a glance of some serious bootie-bouncing action. “Mmph, mmph, mmph. Sistahs, don’t hurt a brother.”

  He left the bar and prowled the room. All the fly sistahs were already in conference with Mister I’m-Just-Trying-To-Come-Up, or Mister Baby, Baby, Please, Have Mercy On A Brother. The women leaning against the wall, waiting on him to speak to them, would be waiting all night, because he was out. “I’m going to Strokers.” He pulled out his keys and smiled, had some strippers on his mind.

  He wanted so badly to enjoy himself. He needed to wipe the past few days from his mind, but Elizabeth kept invading his space. He would have gone to see her by now, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that he was the reason she was in that hospital bed. The straw that broke the camel’s back so to speak. Maybe he should call her. Just check on her to make sure she was all right. He ordered a drink as soon as he walked into Strokers. Downed it, pulled out his cell phone, stood up as if he were getting ready to recite the Pledge of Allegiance, and dialed the hospital.

  Elizabeth answered on the third ring. She sounded groggy, but not sad. Not suicidal. He had missed the signs a of couple days ago, when she left his apartment. Better to check and be sure. “Hey you, how’ssss it g-g-going?”

  “Tommy?”

  “Yeah, it’s me.” He twisted his lip. “You still mad?”

  “No, I’m all right. Why are you calling so late?”

  He looked around the room. A brunette in a Cinderella outfit was on stage doing her thing to It’s Gettin’ Hot in Here.

  “That’s right, Cinderella, take off all your clothes,” the drunk at the front table yelled.

  Obedience, and having pride in what your mama gave you, must have been the golden rule in this place. Cinderella was stripping down to her birthday suit – and what a glorious birth that must have been.

  Tommy wanted to scream, dollas, dollas over here. Then he remembered that Elizabeth was holding up the other side of this phone conversation. “Had to know that you were all right. Couldn’t rest without knowing.” As an afterthought he asked, “You still thinking ‘bout offing yourself?”

  “Tommy, are you drunk?”

  A nappy blonde strutted by him. Tommy winked and patted the seat next to him. “Why I gotta be drunk? Elizabeth, I swear! I can’t do nothing right in your eyes, can I?”

  “Whatever, Tommy. I’m going back to sleep. Call me when you sober up.” Tommy heard the click, put his phone back in his jacket pocket, and turned to the nappy blonde standing in front of him. “Looking for a seat?” he asked, patting the seat again.

  Her three-inch heels were kicking her butt. “I’ll sit. What’s up with you?” She crossed her legs.

  Tommy licked his lips as he looked at her luscious thighs. “I’m trying to find someone to spend the night with. You up for that?”

  “I just finished my last show for the night. I’m available.”

  “What costume did you strip in?”

  “Little Bo Peep.”

  Tommy smiled. “Why don’t you get that outfit and let’s get out of here.”

  She raised her hand, slowing Tommy’s roll. “Wait a minute. What’s in it for me?”

  “Baby, if you bring that Little Bo Peep outfit, you can name your price.”

  13

  “Thank you. Thank you so much!” Faith said as she cried.

  “The Lord has saved you. Do you believe that?” Kenneth asked.

  “Yes! Oh yes, I believe it. I’ve never felt so good in all my life.”

  Kenneth smiled. If nothing else good happened the rest of this trip, he would be grateful that God allowed him to meet Faith. She told him the tragic story of her life. She had been molested as a child, beaten and used by boyfriend after boyfriend, and experimented with drugs. Her dad had been evicted from his home and was now living in a shelter.

  “I can’t wait to tell my dad.” Her smile brightened as she looked at Kenneth. “Would you come with me to pick him up?”

  Kenneth hesitated. They were in Chattanooga. It was getting dark, and he still had another 90-minute journey to Atlanta.

  He opened his mouth to decline.

  “If you come with me, I’ll drive you all the way to Atlanta. Come on, I would love for my dad to meet you.”

  “Well, okay.”

  At the Chattanooga Street Mission, Kenneth and Faith got out of the car and stared at the no-frills, no-windows building. “Well, let’s go on in.” Kenneth took Faith’s arm and allowed her to guide him up the steps. They ope
ned the door and stepped back as a gush of urine and funk assaulted their nostrils. They held their noses and braved their way into the great hall of the homeless. Walking through the mission dulled their smell glands, so they released their noses and started looking for her father. About sixty cots littered the room. The mission workers were in the hall with the temporary residents. Some were sitting, talking with the inhabitants, Bible in hand. Others were busy changing the sheets on the beds. Would dirty feet men appreciate the clean sheets they were blessed with tonight?

  Kenneth hadn’t thought of himself as homeless. But surrounded by rows of cots, mission workers, and the unmistakable smell of urine, he realized that he had been homeless. His captors allowed him to stay in their small cottage, under the guise of physical therapy, but he was homeless none-the-less.

  Desperately, he yearned for home now. What did it look like? One of the residents opened the bathroom door, Kenneth put his hand back to his nose. What did his home smell like? Good God, nothing could be worse than this. Even if Elizabeth no longer wanted him, he would beg for her to allow him to stay in their home until he could buy one of his own. What type of work had he done? Would he be able to afford his own place?

  “Hey, Mac.”

  Someone touched him. His skin crawled as he turned toward the man. “What can I do for you?”

  Greenish-yellow teeth protruded from his bony face as he said, “Help a brother out, man. I just want something to eat.”

  “Don’t they feed you here?” Kenneth glanced at the line of men, with bowls in hand, standing at the entrance to the kitchen.

  “Man, they serve slop in this place. You think just because I’m homeless I don’t deserve a decent meal?”

  Faith lifted the man’s arm and showed Kenneth the needle marks. “This is the kind of food he wants. Trust me, I’ve been around this kind of stuff all my life.” She released his arm. “Come on. I think I spotted my dad.”