HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 5

DREW

HE HEALS THE BROKENHEARTED AND BINDS UP THEIR WOUNDS (Psalm 147:3)

            My heart raced when my shovel scrapped a green tarpaulin. Nancy and I looked at each other wide eyed. I removed more dirt, and we had little doubt that it was a body wrapped and tied within the tarp. I reached down to pull it out of the makeshift grave, but Nancy stopped me.

            “Drew, don’t touch it! Let’s notify the police.”

            An hour later the quiet, so called haunted woods were surrounded with flashing lights with a multitude of voices, a helicopter, and news crews. Nancy did most of the talking when we were questioned by the authorities. Ben Weaver was brought in for questioning, subsequently arrested, and has been incarcerated ever since.

            It was evening by the time we left the police station. Nancy and I had driven there in my pickup truck, so I had to drive her back to Baylor’s Woods to retrieve her car. The whole night had been a blur. But as we pulled up next to Nancy’s car, the events that led to finding the body came back full force.

            She had kissed me. She had thrown her promise ring over her shoulder into the graveyard. We had kissed each other again. Then we had looked for her discarded ring. Then we had discovered Channel Northrup’s body. Then chaos ensued. Now we looked at each other with discombobulated minds.

            Where did we go from here? She didn’t get out of my truck. Was I supposed to kiss her good night right after we solved a murder? Of course kissing was what we were doing moments before our gruesome discovery. But she wasn’t even looking at me. She was staring out the windshield like a zombie. So I said, “What a day, huh?”

            “And night,” she said quietly without looking at me.

            After a long moment of silence, I groped for something to say. “We never did find your ring.”

            “I’ll come look tomorrow,” she replied, still not looking at me.

            “I’ll help you.”

            “You don’t have to.”

            “I don’t mind.”

            “Suit yourself.”

            Well, the question of a goodnight kiss was answered. No way! I was suddenly bone tired. I wished she would just go.

            “I better go,” she suddenly said. And she began to exit my truck.

            “Okay, well, it was good seeing you again. I wish it was under better circumstances.”

            She stopped and gave me a tired smile. “Yeah, it started out so well and then turned into a horror movie.”

            I nodded as I thought, yeah just like our relationship. We were great friends as children, and then as we grew into teenagers, it turned into a nightmare. I said, “You accomplished your purpose though.”

            She smiled sentimentally. “Yes, with your help.”

            I shrugged. “I wouldn’t have stumbled onto to the suspicious grave if you hadn’t thrown your ring.”

            “Yeah, my ring. I hope I find it.”

            I noticed the “I” rather than “we.” So I said, “I hope you find your ring.”

            “Thanks,” she said, her smile was forced, and she patted my knee. “Goodnight.”

            As I watched her get into her own car and start it, I thought of something my brother had said after he and a girlfriend had broken up. ‘Women, you can’t live with them, and you can’t live without them.’

            I wasn’t as handsome as my brother or as well built. I also had a more difficult time with puberty. So whereas he always had numerous females desiring him, and giving him attention, my only experience with the opposite sex was my friendship with Nancy.

            I didn’t see Nancy again until almost a week later. It was at Channel Northrup’s funeral. She was dressed in black slacks and a black turtleneck. Her left ring finger was still unadorned. But her left eye was wearing a dark shade of purple. I sat next to her in the back pew of the church.

            “What happened to your eye?”

            “Diego and I had an argument.”

            “Looks like more than an argument.”

            She shrugged. “I had him charged with assault.”

            “Good for you. So, you didn’t find the ring then.”

            “I didn’t have to. The police called me in the morning. It turned up in their evidence. But Diego didn’t like it when I gave it back to him.”

            “I see,” I replied, hooking my thumbs into my gray Dockers.

            She answered the question in my gaze. “Look, Drew, I guess we discovered a mutual attraction the other day. But I need time. What with my breakup, and, you know, what happened before we found Channel. It was… It was…”

            “Amazing?”

            “Bizarrely so… But also a bad omen.”

            “A bad omen?”

            “I’ve always been torn about you, Drew. He loves me, he loves me not. He’s right for me, he’s wrong for me. I can’t believe I’m kissing Drew. I can’t believe we found a dead body.”

            “I think it’s quite a story to tell.”

            “It doesn’t bother you that two minutes after we kissed for the first time, we found a murder victim?”

            “I’m not superstitious. But technically, we didn’t discover the body until an hour later after we went and got shovels.”

            The service started. At the end, the pastor petitioned us to stand and sing a hymn. As the singing began, Nancy scooted past me and exited the building. A minute later, I glanced out of the window and saw her blue Spark ease onto the road from the church’s parking lot.

            I was a little surprised to learn that Channel came from a conservative Christian home. During questioning at police headquarters, we had come to discover that Channel was a bit of a wild child.  Actually, seeing a few pictures of her before her demise, I should probably take the ‘bit’ away from the ‘wild.’

            I had to keep my jaw from dropping when a young lady who looked exactly like Channel from the pictures I saw approach me. Only instead of a short skirt, low cut top, bleach blonde hair, multiple piercings and stripper like makeup, this version of Channel looked Amish. She had a long, plain black dress, hair somewhere between light brown and sandy blonde, and no makeup. Instead of multiple piercings, her hair was pulled into a bun with multiple bobby pins. Even her large round eyes were gray.

            You might say I had a different taste in females than the average young man. Whereas I could see plenty of guys going gaga over Channel. This young lady, who had to be her sister, extended her hand with her eyes red rimmed. Yet as she forced a smile, displaying a crooked eye tooth that I found endearing, I realized I was holding my breath.

            “Hi, my name is Callie,” she greeted.

            “I’m Drew.”

            “Are you the guy that found Channel?” she asked with a soft voice.

            “Well, me and another person found her.”

            She extended her hand to shake. As I took hold of her hand, it was moist, clammy, and limp. This also appealed to me for some strange reason. It made me want to protect her somehow. She said, “Was it that guy you were sitting with?”

            “Guy? You mean the person in all black with the short strawberry blond hair?”

            “Yes.”

            “That was a gal. And yes it was she and I that, you know…”

            “Oh, sorry, I didn’t get a good look. I had been crying when my other sister pointed you two out. I just wanted to say, thank you, though.”

            “You’re welcome, but more importantly, I’m very sorry for your loss. Psalm 34:18 says the Lord is near those who have a broken heart.”

            “Are you a believer?” she looked at me hopefully.

            “Yes I am.”

            “It was a depressing service, wasn’t it?” She declared and I agreed. But I didn’t want to respond. I waited and she continued, “But Channel did go to a Christless grave, and everybody knew it.”

            I suspected her religion was the fire and brimstone type. And although the minister didn’t directly put Channel in hell, he also hadn’t been optimistic about her salvation.

            Callie began to whimper. “It makes me sick thinking she’s is hell.”

            “Do you believe the Bible?” I asked.

            “Of course I do.”

            “Then I can promise you she’s not in hell.”

            “What do you mean? Jesus himself declares that the ungodly go to everlasting punishment.”

            “Punishment, not punishing. Meaning their fate is permanent, not the torment. Do you believe the Bible teaches that the wicked have eternal life?”

            “Of course not,” she said, and then frowned. Then she looked astonished. “The wages of sin is death.”

            “Right,” I said giving her a reassuring smile, then gave her the fastest Bible study I have ever given in my short life. “The ungodly suffer doom, or destruction, Job 21:30. They will perish, Psalm 37:20. They will burn up, Malachi 4:1. They will be destroyed, Psalm 37:38. They will vanish away, Psalm 37:20. They will be cut off, Psalm 37: 9. And will be slain Psalm 62:3. God will destroy them 145:20. The fire will devour them, Psalm 21:9. Notice that. Devour, not burn eternally.”

            (For a more in-depth study on the topic of hellfire, contact Amazing Facts and ask for the free study guide #11, ‘Is the devil in charge of hell?’)

            “Are you some type of pastor?” she asked with a look of awe. “You seem too young.”

            “No, I just graduated from high school.”

            “Are you going to be?”

            I shrugged. “I’m gonna work construction for my uncle this summer and pray about what God would have me do with my life.”

            “Well, I think you should be, you brought me a ton of comfort just now.”

            “Praise God.”

            “I don’t understand why my church is so adamant about hell. It’s like they want to scare people. I try to focus on Jesus, trusting that I’m saved, and that one day in the great beyond, when God wipes away all tears, that we will be made to understand. For now it just plain hurts.”

            I wanted to ask her what she was doing with her life, but I didn’t know if it would be appropriate in this setting. I also didn’t think the atmosphere right to ask her to get together. Then a couple older ladies came up and hugged her. They began talking, so I quietly slipped away.

            As appealing as I found Callie, and as unsuperstitious as I was, meeting at her sister’s funeral did seem like a strange vibe. Other than praying for her, I put any notion of getting to know her out of my mind. But she called me three days later.

            “Hey, Drew, this is Callie, Channel’s sister,” she began. “I called the police to ask for your number. I told them I wanted to thank you. So I’ll say it again. Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome. And once again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

            “So to be up front and not beat around the bush, I talked to my pastor about the things you told me about hell. I didn’t like his explanation. You quoted nine or ten Bible verses in under a minute. He quoted two in fifteen minutes, and they weren’t nearly as convincing.”

            She paused long enough that I figured she wanted some reply. “Well, thank you, I guess I study quite a bit.”

            “So he told me he knew of you, and thought you went to some seventh day Sabbath church.”

            “I do,” I replied, frowning and wondering how her pastor would know of me.

            “He told me to keep my distance, that you were a legalistic bunch that denies being saved by grace.”

            “False and false,” I replied. “Jesus said if you love me keep my commandments. That’s found in John 14:15. Since I love the Lord, I keep His commandments, including the seventh day Sabbath.”

            “I was wondering if we could get together. I want to run by some of the things he said and see what you have to say for yourself.”

            “Sure, I’d be glad to. Look, it’s almost lunchtime, how about we meet at the Bluebird Café. I’ll buy.”

            There was a pause. “I’m actually kind of seeing someone.”

            “Me too,” I told her, thinking of Nancy and I kissing. “But to truthful, right now she needs a little space.”

            “I just wanted to be clear. My intentions are spiritual, not romantic. We met at my sister’s funeral after all.”

            “Right.”

            Half an hour later, Callie and I met outside of the café. She had her hair pulled back on both sides with clips, and her dishwater blonde hair flowed over her shoulders. She wore a white t-shirt with a green button up sweater. Her long denim skirt went a few inches past her knees, with white Vans on her feet. With what I could see of her legs, I thought they were even more pale than her arms and face. Then I realized she was wearing white tights.

            To the rest of the world, she looked like a plain Jane. Maybe even peculiar. But to me she was a vision of loveliness, even Godliness. A hostess seated us in a booth. I had just begun to ask Callie what she did, but before I could, she took hold of my hand and with a of fondness on her countenance. “I just want thank you for our little talk at my sister’s funeral. I can’t even describe what a comfort it was to me.”

            I was about to reply with something like ‘aw shucks,’ when I noticed a waitress step up to our table in my peripheral vision. I heard her gasp before I saw her face. I said, “Nancy!”

            “Drew!”