Beyond Reach (22 page)

He glances around the room. “Man, it's the key to
everything.
Jesus meant it when He said that we're forgiven by the way we forgive. Because when we refuse to forgive, we lock ourselves up in a spiritual prison—and forgiveness is the only key to unlock that door.”

He talks a little while longer, reading the Scriptures that back up this theory. And then we pray and he encourages us to take a few minutes to search our hearts to see if we need to forgive someone.

Although it was a good message, I don't feel like it was really meant for me. I think hard, and the only people I can come up with are my mom and my brother. And it seems like old stuff that I should've gotten over with by now, but then again I don't want to take any chances. So I forgive Mom for the times she's hurt my feelings by not understanding or respecting my gift, although I'm sure I've done that before, and I'm not feeling any bitterness toward her today.

Then I forgive Zach, once again, for becoming a drug addict and making life hard on all of us. Okay, even if I'm just jumping through a spiritual hoop, at least I did it. Then we sing a couple more songs and are dismissed.

As usual, kids are invited to stick around and play games, eat food, or just visit for another hour or so, which
we do. Conrad and Alex invite Garrett to join them playing pool, but Olivia and I decide just to watch. As we sit on the sidelines, I'm curious as to Garrett's response to Nick's message but don't quite know how to ask him without really putting him on the spot.

“Good shot, Garrett,” Alex says after Garrett puts another ball in a pocket. “I guess I should've known that a science dude would get pool since it's mostly physics and geometry.”

Garrett gives Alex a curious glance, like he's weighing that comment, trying to decide if it was meant as a slam or a compliment. But then he seems to let it go, and I'm glad for his sake. Being overly defensive never helps anyone.

“Maybe you're right about Garrett,” I say quietly to Olivia. “He does seem pretty normal. Maybe he isn't the guy in my vision.”

Olivia nods. “Let's hope not. Now tell me about the plan for tomorrow. Do I get to meet Cody, or do I just drop you off?”

I consider this. “Maybe you should meet him. You could even challenge him to a game of
Final Fantasy.”

“Sure. Anything to help. I've been praying for the Clarks.”

I let a yawn escape as the guys finish up their pool game, but it's barely over when they decide to play another one.

“I think I'm going to head for home,” says Olivia.

I glance over at Conrad. He seems to be having a good time. “Could I hitch a ride?”

Of course, that's okay with her. And I tell Conrad that the girls are calling it a night and that I'll ride with Olivia.

“I don't have to keep playing,” he says.

I shake my head. “No, go ahead. I'm fine, really.”

“How about a ride to church tomorrow?” he asks.

“Sounds good.”

As Olivia drives me home, I lean back in the seat and just relax. I really am tired. Then just as I'm closing my eyes, I experience that flashing sensation again. My body gets tense, and I brace myself for whatever it is that God wants to show me. But all I see is red. Red everywhere. Then almost like a lens coming into focus, I realize that it's blood. And I see a dark-haired guy whose wrists have been slit. And that's all. End of vision.

I sit up in the seat and let out a little gasp.

“You okay?”

“I just had a vision,” I say slowly.

“Really?” Olivia glances at me. “Right here? In my car?”

“Yes.” Then I tell her about it and she, like me, gasps.

“Ugh, that's horrible, Sam. How can you stand it?”

I just shake my head. “But who is it? Who is the guy?”

“Was it Garrett?”

“I don't know. I never saw his face. Again, he had dark hair, but mostly I saw blood—everywhere. It was so gory. There's no way a person could survive losing that much blood.”

“Do you think it was because of what Nick talked about tonight?” she asks. “Remember how he cut an artery when he put his fist through the window.”

“Like you think that influenced my vision?” I snap at her, immediately feeling defensive even though I know there's no point.

“I don't know…”

“Sorry to lash at you. But,
no
, to your question. My dreams and visions aren't like that, Olivia.”

“Sorry. I should've known that.”

We're both quiet as she drives me the rest of the way home. Then I thank her for the ride and tell her I'll see her tomorrow.

As I walk into the house, I consider her question. Why did it irk me so much? Is it only because I'm tired? Or am I worried there could be something to it? Then I remember Nick's message on forgiveness and decide I better be sure to forgive my best friend.

The house seems quiet, which isn't so unusual. But for some reason I think maybe Mom hasn't gotten home yet. And when I check the garage, I see that her car is gone. Well, good for her. I hope she's having fun. Although it's after eleven, and I hope she doesn't stay out too late. I also wonder what she and Paula might be doing at this hour. Maybe they're having coffee after a movie. Well, whatever.

I'm not sure how long I've been asleep when I hear a loud crash downstairs. At first I think I'm having a dream and then I realize that, no, this is for real.
Could it be Zach?
He used to come home late like this sometimes. But then I remember that Zach is still in rehab, or he's supposed to be. I glance at the lighted numbers on my clock to see that it's 2:13 in the morning. And then I hear another noise. Is someone breaking into our house?

I grab my cell phone and tiptoe to the door and peek out. There are no lights on downstairs, but I can hear
someone moving down there! Still clinging to my phone, I dash out of my room and straight down the hall toward Mom's. At least we can hide out together while we call the police. But when I get to Mom's room, she's not there!

Okay, what is going on here? Has Mom been abducted? I'm just starting to dial 911 when the door to her bedroom opens and the light goes on, and there, standing in the doorway, looking nearly as shocked as I feel, is my mom.

“Sam?” she sputters.

“I thought you were a burglar.”

She giggles, holding her hand over her mouth. “I knocked over a lamp.”

I walk closer to my mom and peer closely at her slightly flushed face. “Mom?” I say in a shocked tone. “Are you drunk?”

She giggles again. -”No, shweetie, I jus’ had a couple of drinks with Paula and I—

“Did you drive home like this?”

She holds her forefinger over her lips. “Shhh…you're going to wake up the neighbors.”

“Mom!”

Now she frowns and almost looks like she's going to cry. “Don't be mad, Sammy.”

I take in a deep breath. “I'm not mad, Mom. But I'm concerned. Did you drive home like this?”

She just grins and shakes her head. “No, no, I did not. The nice bartender man called me a cab.” She laughs. “He didn't call
me
a cab. That would be rude. He called
for
a cab.” She's staggering toward her bed now. I help her to lie down and slip off her shoes, then toss her chenille throw blanket on her.

“Sleep it off,” I say in a stern voice. “We'll talk in the morning.”

“Yesh, Mommy.”

I roll my eyes as I walk back to my room. Maybe Nick's sermon on forgiveness was meant for me after all. Go figure!

I
get up early on Sunday morning and do damage control in the living room. I still can't believe my mom came home drunk last night. In fact, if not for the fact that there's a brokerv lamp on the floor and no car in the garage, I might've thought I'd simply experienced a new kind of warning dream from God.

As I clean up broken porcelain, I wonder why God didn't warn me about this. I dump the shards of blue and white into the trash can and sigh. Mom's going to be sad when she discovers which lamp she broke. It was the Chinese ginger jar from her grandmother, the one she used to always tell Zach and me to be careful of. At first I thought I could glue it together, but there were so many tiny pieces, it was hopeless.

I'm thinking about Nick's words last night, about how not forgiving his parents was his downfall. So I'm determined not to do that with Mom. I make a conscious effort to forgive her. And not to be mad or indignant.

Okay, ì'm still irritated, but as I make a strong pot of coffee, I try to put myself in her shoes. I take a quick inventory of her life, and it seems to add up to problems: 1) Mom's not walking with God, 2) the love of her life was
murdered and taken from her, 3) her oldest son is a recovering meth addict, 4) her daughter has dreams and visions, which she cannot understand, and 5) her job has been stressful. Is it any wonder the poor woman went out and got wasted last night?

Not that getting drunk is going to improve the status of her life, but I suppose I can understand just slightly. Still, it worries me, and I don't know what to do. Well, besides pray. And I'm already doing that.

“You're sure quiet today,” Olivia says as she drives me to the Clark home. “Did I offend you last night when I said that stupid thing about your vision? I'm sorry. I think I was just tired.”

“No, that's not it at all.” I tell her about Mom's late night antics. Okay, it's a little embarrassing telling your best friend that after your mom had a makeover that makes her look young and cool, she suddenly starts acting like a teenager on a drinking binge.

“I feel like it's my fault,” I admit. “It's like I wanted her to have fun and have a life. I encouraged her to call Paula. Who knew they were going to go barhopping?”

Olivia actually laughs. “It is
not
your fault, Sam. And if I know your mom, she probably feels horrible right now.”

I kind of chuckle. “Actually, she does feel horrible. But that's from the hangover.”

“Yeah, well, when the hangover's over, I'll bet you that your mom will be really sorry.”

“I guess.”

“Let's pray for Cody,” says Olivia suddenly. “I have a feeling God is going to use you today, Sam.”

Okay” Not that I feel terribly usable at the moment, but then God is God—so who knows? So we pray, and Olivia asks God for a miracle. I agree and we both say amen, and then we're there.

I feel nervous as we walk toward the house, so I continue to pray for Cody. I'm wondering if I'll get a chance to really say something meaningful to him today. Or if I should even say anything without having Ebony here. Then again, I have a feeling Ebony would encourage me to get the boy to talk.

Mrs. Clark lets us in then disappears, I assume to her bedroom. I introduce Cody to Olivia and produce the coveted video game, and he suddenly brightens.

“Want to play it now?” asks Olivia, sitting on the couch right next to him.

“Sure.”

So they pop it in and soon are playing. Olivia explains some things, but Cody seems pretty comfortable, so she just encourages him and gets into it.

Okay, I'm starting to feel a little bored after nearly an hour of this, and I say to no one in particular that I'm going to go downstairs to the basement. I don't even know why I really want to do this since it pretty much creeped me out the last time. But maybe it's like facing my demons. Or maybe I'm just really bored. If nothing else, I figure I can pray.

Everything looks the same down here, and I get that same chilled feeling again. I mean, obviously it's cold since it's February and raining outside. But it's more than just that. It's almost as if there's a real spiritual force down here, and I have half a mind to drag Olivia down here so we can both pray over this room, the way she did for my own bedroom after we visited the suicide website. Maybe I will.

I walk around the room, looking at not much of anything, and I almost expect God to show up and give me a vision—maybe that final vision that will make everything make sense. Then I hear footsteps, and I nearly jump out of my shoes. But I turn to see that it's only Cody.

“What are you doing down here?” he asks in a suspicious voice.

“Just thinking. Where's Olivia?”

“Using the bathroom.”