Devo 15
2/14/00
Happy Valentine's Day!
Today is going to be a bit different. As I was thinking about what to write, I came up with what I thought was a good idea (still do), but as I started writing it, I realized I needed some more time. When I realized that Valentine's day was coming up, I decided to write something fitting to the occasion. Actually, the story I'm going to tell, I wrote about two years ago for a fiction writing class I was taking then. It is a love story (sorry guys), but it's implications go beyond the world's definition of love as you'll probably guess from the title. This story is rather long (8 and half pages single spaced) and so I'll break it into two parts, the second of which will come out later this week, or next week. Even still, the halves are kind of long, and for that I apologize. But in any case, I hope you enjoy...
"Greater Love Hath No Man Than This..."
by Ben Zuehlke
Once again Mike Richards watched the gunman storm into his first grade classroom. Again, he heard the shouting and then the gunshot echoing through his head. And for the thousandth time, he saw his father collapse to the floor. Suddenly, Mike bolted upright in his bed breathing heavily, sweat beading on his forehead and starring into the dawn light streaming through his dorm window. He sat there for a moment wide awake and looked over at his clock. Only then did he realize that the alarm was blaring. Shaking his head sharply, Mike crawled out of bed and brusquely switched off the alarm. Grabbing his shower bag, he once again launched himself through his established Sunday morning routine of showering and dressing up in the uncomfortable shirt, tie, and slacks he wouldn't be caught dead in otherwise. Half and hour later Mike was starting up his car and heading for church. He couldn't remember anymore why he even went to church anymore. Having been away from home for three years now, he knew it wasn't because of his mother. Sure she asked every Friday when he called home, but would she really know if he missed a week or two? He certainly didn't go to improve his life in any way, he would forget the sermon as soon as he left the building. And as for actually practicing the kind of life they taught, forget it. The sermons never applied to him. That message about tithing for instance, how could God expect him, a college student living on loans, to give what little money he had to the church to 'increase its ministry.' To say categorically that Mike didn't believe in God would be a bit of a stretch. He believed in some higher force, but as for the loving God that allowed needless suffering that the church taught, that was too much for him to swallow.
As the hymn came to a close and everybody sat down to listen to the announcements, Mike's eyes scanned the bulletin for the topic of today's sermon. Before he had time to find it the pastor had finished the announcements and asked the congregation to stand up and greet the people around them. Dutifully Mike rose and glanced around for someone's hand to shake. As he introduced himself to a stranger he would likely never see again, Mike caught some movement out of the corner of his eye. Looking to the back doors, Mike was just in time to see what was probably the most stunningly beautiful girl he had ever seen. His eyes followed her so closely he didn't even notice the hand extended towards him for the man in the pew behind him. Her dark brown hair resting evenly on her shoulders and cascading down her back provided the perfect frame for the clearest blue eyes he had ever seen. Mike knew instantly that he wanted to meet her and had already begun figuring out how to best do this when he noticed the usher guide her to a seat at the end of his pew.
The greeting time was over and the pastor made his way up to pray for the offering. Finishing this, the pianist began her interlude as the collection plates wound their way through the congregation. Mike was now having a difficult time keeping his eyes off of the girl as he started imagining what she was like and if she had a boyfriend or not. He glanced quickly over again, this time looking at her hands. His heart caught when he saw a glint of gold off her left hand. A second later, though, he was chiding himself for jumping to conclusions as he realized that there was no stone in the ring and was probably some kind of purity band. Then, as he was watching, her hands rose up to take a little book from the usher moving down the aisle. The friendship register! Yes! Mike waited anxiously trying not to shift about so much as he waited for the register to slowly make its way down his row, not even aware that the pastor had started his sermon. Finally after what seemed like ages, the register reached him. Barely able to control his trembling fingers, Mike opened the cover of the friendship register and looked at the first name written there. 'Jennie Smith', written in a flowing script was the name he found there, and more importantly, her address and phone number.
The rest of the sermon was a blur. Mike's thoughts were far from the pastor's message of mercy and forgiveness. Instead, he found himself imagining being with this girl. How would her voice sound? Does she have a nice personality? What does she like to do? Lost in his wondering, Mike didn't notice when the pastor finished his message, and it was only because of the people filing down the rows in front of him that he knew the service was over. Mike looked up towards where the girl was sitting and surprised himself with an audible gasp when he didn't see her there. Standing quickly, he made his way to the doors leading from the sanctuary and scanned the crowd. Seeing her on the way through the exit Mike began working his way through the crowd which seemed to get thicker the closer he got to the door. Dashing to the parking lot, Mike was just in time to see her slip into a car and start the engine. Disappointed that he wouldn't be able to meet her in person just now, Mike shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way to his own car wondering when would be the best time to call her. A car honked behind him a moment later and he looked up realizing that he was in the middle of the car lane. He moved to the side and looked back to the car now passing him and found himself looking into the eyes of the girl. She smiled and gave a friendly wave as she drove by causing the blood to rush to Mike's cheeks in embarrassment. Reaching his car and fastening his seat belt, Mike suddenly wasn't too hungry for dorm food and decided to eat out.
Mike parked his car at the Runza down the road, and after scanning the menu for a couple seconds ordered the number two combo. He took his receipt from the lady behind the counter and looked around the dining room. He stopped. There she was. All alone in a table off to the side. His mind was suddenly racing again, so furiously in fact that he didn't notice his order was ready until the third time his number had been called. Grabbing his tray he slowly made his way past the condiment shelf and approached the girl's table.
"Ex...Excuse me. Didn't I see you at the Free Church this morning?"
Jennie looked up from her meal and taking a moment to swallow said, "Probably, I was there anyway." Then a smile spread across her face as she recognized him. "You're the guy I almost ran over, aren't you?"
Mike again felt the blood returning to his cheeks. "Sorry about that," he said. "You mind if I join you?"
Jennie smiled, "Not at all."
Mike set his tray on the table and took the seat opposite her. "Mike Richards," he introduced himself extending his hand across the table.
Jennie took his hand in a gentle but firm grip, "Jennie Smith. Pleased to meet you Mike." Their eyes met for a moment but Mike quickly turned his attention to his fries as he searched for something to say.
"You go to this church often?" he asked finally and just about kicked himself thinking that there could have no way that he could have missed her if she had.
Jennie didn't seem to notice the absurdity of the question, however, and answered, "Actually, this was my first time."
"I see." Another awkward silence followed. "Where did you used to go?" Jennie seemed to think a moment, "I went to Grace Lutheran my first year here at school. It was all right but the pastor was kinda boring. Then I went to Oak Crest on the south end of town, and they were pretty cool. They had a great college class so I stayed there for awhile. Then a couple weeks ago, a fire pretty much destroyed the building, and so a lot of the people who go there found other churches to go to."
"I heard about that. It was in the papers the other week, right?" Jennie nodded as she finished off her soda.
"You want a refill?" Mike asked.
"Yes, thank you."
"What would you like?"
"Coke."
"Got it." Mike got up and hurried over to the soda fountain. So far so good. Nothing too substantial in their conversation yet, but otherwise pretty good. The cup filled and Mike feeling a bit more comfortable with the situation went back to the table. Then in his best British accent he said, "There you are Madame. Is there anything else I can get you? A straw perhaps, or maybe some catsup for your fries?"
Jennie laughed and replied also in a British accent, "No, no, that won't be necessary. Oh do sit down, we were having such a lovely chat."
"Why I should be delighted." Jennie and Mike looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"That was terrible." Jennie said in her normal voice again. "You would never pass for a Brit."
Mike put on a melodramatic air, "Ach, the lady doth cut me to the heart with the sharp edge of her tongue. Prithee lady, sheath that foul weapon and let us converse again in the manner which befits beings of our stature."
Jennie smiled, impressed. "You read Shakespeare do you?"
"Only when I have to."
The two laughed again as their conversation went on to other matters. After a while Jennie remembered a meeting she had and quickly scrawling a phone number on her napkin, she left. Mike sat for a moment starring at the phone number as a smile spread across his face.
The next few months passed quickly. His classes, of course, consumed a lot of his time, but everything else he could spare was devoted to Jennie. Calling her in the evening, or writing her a letter, Mike was determined that his first girlfriend would also be his last. But in the midst of all this, the nightmares continued. Time and again, he was forced to replay that awful day when he watched his father die. Mike had never known how to tell Jennie about what happened, and so when after eleven months together Mike showed up clearly agitated to break their date for the coming Friday, she was understandably confused.
Something about his mood, however, told her that something was wrong, and not merely losing interest. Taking his hands into her own, she looked into his eyes, "Michael, what's wrong?"
Mike had originally planned to just break the date and leave. But when she asked the question, the memories he had been trying to hold back washed back over him and again he was watching the horrible images of his nightmare. He wanted to tell her everything so she would understand and comfort him. But he didn't want to go back to that classroom only to see his father die again. Something in the back of his mind told him that it would be good for him to tell someone, but the shame he felt held back his words.
"Michael, I want to help you, but I cant' unless you tell me. I promise, it will be our secret."
Mike looked up. Jennie's soft blue eyes that were usually so joyful were now full of concern. Mike swallowed hard as he blinked back the tears that threatened to flow until finally he couldn't hold them back anymore and began softly crying. Jennie put her arms around he and for now, all Mike wanted in the world was to remain in her embrace for eternity. Neither of them spoke for a while but sat on the sofa holding each other. After awhile, Mike sat up straight, and with the heel of his hands pushed the tears from his eyes and started.
"It happened about a month into my first grade year. I was in Miss Smith's class that year. Anyway, this one day we were all, the other kids and I, we were studying the alphabet or something, I don't remember. class was gong just like usual when suddenly we heard the door kicked open. Everyone turned around at once and we saw a man with a shotgun walk in. I don't remember being scared or not, I don't even know if I knew what a gun was. But anyway, this man walks into the class wearing black jeans and a T-shirt with the sleeves cut off and he had a scar on his left cheek. I don't remember exactly what he said, most of it I didn't understand being only seven years old. My mom told me though, when I was in High School, what she knew from the TV reports and newspaper articles.
"Well, it turns out that this man's name was Jeremy Masters." At this Jennie's eyes grew wider. Mike didn't notice, though, because at the moment he was focusing hard on the floor as he continued with his story. "Masters I guess had been married to Miss Smith for ten years or so. Apparently Smith was my teacher's maiden name or something. The story is she had been having an affair with the third grade teacher, I think. Well, when Masters found out about this, he got pretty jealous which is why he came to my class with his shotgun. They argued for awhile, shouting real loud. Someone must have heard the noise because that's when the police came." Here Mike stopped as more tears welled up. "My dad was on duty that day and was the first one on the scene. He came to the class door and because the two were shouting and Masters' back was turned to him, Dad started sneaking up on him from behind. I saw him..."Mike was crying hard now as the memory began to overwhelm him. Jennie just sat silently next to him with her arm across his back. Mike started again, "My parents had divorce a couple of years earlier and I was living with my mom. But my dad would come every other weekend and take me out. We would do everything together; see a ball game, go fishing, go to the fast food places Mom would never take me. He would even let me ride around in his squad car sometimes. when he came into my classroom that day I thought he dad come to surprise me or something and so I got up and yelled 'Dad!' or something like that." Mike paused for a moment as he collected his thoughts and decided how to proceed. Then with his voice barely above a whisper, Mike continued.
"Masters heard my voice and swung around to look at me, my Dad stopped but Masters had already noticed him out of the corner of his eye. Masters pulled his trigger just a split second before my dad did and his bullet hit Dad in the neck which must have thrown his aim off because Dad's bullet went past Masters and hit my teacher in the arm. Some other officers had gotten there by now and when Masters heard Miss Smith yell when she got hit, the other officers rushed in and tackled him. It didn't take much to arrest him, he didn't want to fight anymore. The EMT's showed up then and pronounced Dad dead on the scene. Miss Smith was taken to the hospital and released a couple of days later." Mike got up and walked over to the window watching the cars pass in the night. "Masters was charged with manslaughter and assaulting an officer and sent to the penitentiary for life. Yesterday he was paroled." Mike's fists had clenched firmly and his eyes narrowed, "And if I ever come across that man, I swear he'll wish he had stayed in jail."
"This Friday will be thirteen years from the day my Dad died. Me and Mom always go out to put flowers on his grave."
There was little else Jennie could say or do. And later that night as she said good-bye to Mike, the thought's that had been tormenting her since she heard Mike's story came out in force and filled her with a sense of dread. She had heard that story before; not from the newspapers, but from her own mother. The only difference was that in her mother's version, the gunman was Jennie's father.
To be continued...