Deep Shadows (23 page)

People squirmed in their seats. Someone began to fan herself with a pamphlet. Another person checked his watch.

“Amen.” A short elderly woman near the front nodded her head, white hair bobbing up and down, up and down.

“
The Lord is good and his love endures forever.
Amen?”

There were more nods of agreement and a handful of folks murmuring
amen
.

Carter had been to church with a few of his friends, when there was some sort of special youth emphasis. One of those churches was what his mom called charismatic, but the church they attended wasn't. In fact, there wasn't much audience participation at all. He glanced at Max, who had his eyes fixed on Tony. Patrick stared out one of the windows, his arm around Bianca, who was weeping for some reason. Suddenly, Carter felt a giant lump in his own throat, as if someone were squeezing his windpipe.

Was he about to cry too? Here in front of everyone? He blinked his eyes rapidly and tried to slow the thumping of his heart. He'd only felt that way once before—when Max's parents had moved away. He thought he remembered crying when his grandparents had died, but he'd been pretty young then—second grade. He definitely didn't remember his dad or his dad's death. How could he? He'd been a little kid when it happened.

An outsider might have said that everyone in Carter's family had died—but it had never felt that way to him. It had always been him and his mom. She'd made him feel secure, and she had been his entire family.
He missed his grandparents terribly, but when Max's parents were living next door, they were willing and ready to fill the void.

When Max's parents moved, Carter felt as if his adopted family were leaving. He'd been about to start fifth grade, but suddenly he wasn't interested in his new teacher or returning to school to see his friends. Max's parents had spoiled him, but he didn't understand it at the time. After they moved, he and his mom were alone again. That time had been very dark. He thought the fabric of the world had ripped in two.

This pressure in his chest reminded him of then.

Pastor Tony was still talking. He held up his Bible and said, “I will sing of the Lord's unfailing love forever!” This time he didn't wait for an amen. He walked out from behind the pulpit, tugged on his shirt collar, hitched up his pants, and sat down on the top step.

“Forever, friends. Not until he grows weary of us. Not until his heart turns toward others who are more faithful. Not until the lights go out, but forever.”

Amens popped like kernels in a skillet—to the left and the right, from folks all around Carter.

“Psalm 138:8 says that the Lord has a purpose for me and a purpose for you. He will fulfill that purpose, and his love will endure—forever. Did we lose friends in last night's fire? Yes. Yes, we did.”

Carter had been mesmerized by his pastor's intensity, an almost pleading desire for them to understand. But at the mention of lost friends, he turned to his mom. She shook her head once, quickly, and reached for his hand, her eyes still trained on Tony.

“There may be dark days ahead. I suspect there are. God help us, I suspect there are.” Tony stood and walked back up the steps to stand behind the pulpit. The armpits and back of his shirt were stained with sweat.

“I only ask that you remember: He is good, and his love will last all of our days. Or in the words of the psalmist, ‘The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever.'”

T
HIRTY
-F
IVE

S
helby realized that she should have told Carter about the deaths the night before. Perhaps protecting him from the truth had been an ill-conceived parental reflex. She couldn't shield him from the harshness of the world that was now their life.

Tony ended his sermon, and before they concluded the service, Chris asked them to exit by way of the fellowship hall. “We have placed sheets of butcher paper around the room. Those on the south side list
needs
. Those on the north list
resources
. If you have anything to add to either list, either for yourself or for someone else, please do.”

After they stood to sing the doxology, Carter peppered her with questions. “More people died? Was it anyone we knew? How? And when were you going to tell me?”

“I'll explain it on the way home. I-I should have told you. I'm sorry.”

Carter stuck his hands in his pockets and ducked his head. It was an adolescent pose. What did she expect? He was only seventeen, but they both knew he was going to have to grow up faster than either would have wished.

Shelby turned her attention to her best friend. “Are you okay, Bianca?”

“Yes. I'm just… I'm emotional is all.”

“How is your father?”

Bianca shrugged and rocked her hand back and forth.

“Will you let us know if there's anything we can do?”

“Of course.”

They followed Patrick and Max into the fellowship hall, where the light
was brighter from skylights in the ceiling. It was also warmer, but someone had propped open both doors to let in a gentle breeze. Shelby wasn't sure what she'd expected, but she was surprised to see the long lists on butcher paper adorning the walls.

“Someone was busy last night,” Max said.

“As were we,
amigo
.” Patrick led the way to the closest sheet of butcher paper. “As were we.”

The list of needs covered everything from food to lodging to diapers. Carter moved over to talk to his friends, while Shelby, Max, Patrick, and Bianca spread out as they read one list after another. The needs far outweighed the resources, but still Shelby was surprised.

Someone had an RV that a family could stay in for as long as needed. Another person had a wheelchair in the garage that hadn't been used in at least a year. If anyone could get it to the hospital, they'd be happy to donate it. Someone else had an extra-large backyard that they couldn't begin to farm themselves. They were offering use of the land in exchange for a portion of the harvest.

People obviously had very little to share, but the fact that they
were
sharing tugged at the strings wrapped around Shelby's heart.

“Kind of surprising,” Max said.

She hadn't realized he was standing behind her, and she didn't want to turn around and face him—not while tears were stinging her eyes.

“That there are so many needs?”

“And so many resources. You know, Shelby…” His voice dropped so that only she could hear him. “This is a good idea. If you came to High Fields with me—”

“I've already told you my decision.”

“Someone could live in your home. We could list it right here.” He stepped closer, close enough that he could have wrapped his arms around her, and then he pointed to a blank space at the end of the list. “Imagine it here: ‘Available house for family of four.'”

“Four?” She stepped to the side, putting a small amount of distance between them. Though the lists they were studying were quite serious, she couldn't help laughing. “You're going to put four people in my little house?”

“Two bedrooms—mom and dad in one, two kids in the other. It would work. Or maybe Mr. and Mrs. Smitty could stay there.”

“I had forgotten all about them.”

“Bianca and I saw them as we walked over this morning,” Patrick said, catching the tail end of their conversation. “They're staying until things settle down. Mr. Smitty has some angina, which he has medicine for, but he would rather stay put until he's less anxious. Plus, it's a long walk back to Dallas, and they'd have to bum a ride with someone since their car doesn't work.”

“Does Mrs. Smitty agree with that decision?” Max asked.

“She says the city will be worse than whatever they have to endure here.”

“She's probably right.” Shelby crossed her arms and tapped her index finger against her left elbow. She needed to get to work. She hadn't even told anyone she had found a solution to her most immediate problem.

She'd agreed to work at Green Acres in exchange for shelf space in the refrigerator to keep Carter's insulin cold. The nursing home had a massive generator with plenty of gas, and they needed the help. She started to mention it but stopped midsentence when Pastor Tony walked up to them.

“Morning, Pastor.” Max shook hands with Tony. It was such a natural action, something she'd seen him do a million times.

“Small group this morning,” Bianca said. “I was a little surprised.”

“Especially after the crowd last night.” Patrick's expression turned suddenly serious. “You'd think folks would attend this morning, that they'd want to hear your words of encouragement.”

“Thank you. Good to know you were listening.” Tony cleared his throat. “In times like these, people either fall on their faith—fall on their knees—or they try to handle it on their own. Last night people were scared, bewildered even. They showed up here—the one place they knew would be safe. This morning they decided to stay home when they looked around and saw how much work needed to be done.”

“Like building latrines?” Carter had been talking to the youth director, but he scooted over to join them.

“Exactly. Faced with no one to take care of their toilet needs, church will often get pushed to the backseat.”

“How's your family?” Shelby asked. She'd seen the pastor's wife during the service. He also had two small children that were running around on the other side of the room, playing as if nothing had changed.

“We're good. Peggy's made of very tough stuff, and both of my boys take after their mother.”

They spoke another few moments, and then Patrick, Bianca, and Carter waved goodbye and drifted toward the door. Shelby held back with Max.

“Say, Tony, I'll be headed to the ranch soon.”

“I thought you might want to check on your parents.”

“It's more than that—I plan on staying as long as this thing lasts. I'm trying to convince Shelby and Carter to go with me.”

Tony crossed his arms and smiled. “Hunker down mentality, huh? Can't say I blame you.”

“I know you have that little place to the east of town. If you need fuel to get there, I could try and get you enough.”

“No need, but thank you, Max.”

“You aren't going out there?” Shelby asked.

“No. Peggy and I talked about it, but our place is here—leading the flock.”

“If things get bad enough, the flock may turn on you,” Max said.

“That's always a possibility, but ministry is what we're called to do.”

“If you change your mind…”

“I would let you know, but I doubt that will happen. Thank you, Max. I'll pray for safety for both you and your parents.” He turned to Shelby. “And I'll pray that you know God's will as far as where you should be with Carter.”

Those words echoed in Shelby's mind as she made her way outside and down the sidewalk.

God's will…

Had she given any thought to that?

Or had she simply reacted to the events pressing down on them?

T
HIRTY
-S
IX

M
ax slowed his pace to match Shelby's. They walked toward Carter, Patrick, and Bianca, who were waiting under the large pecan trees that bordered the church's parking area.

Patrick said, “Bianca and I are headed to her parents' house. Seems they were chosen to host a latrine.”

“That's a good thing,” said Bianca. “
Mamá
would have never agreed to walk into someone else's backyard to use the toilet.”

“How are things at your place?” Shelby asked Patrick.

“Okay. There was some construction taking place on the cross streets prior to the flare, so we actually have two porta-potties that someone requisitioned—”

“Requisitioned from whom?” Max asked. He realized belatedly that a lawyerly tone had crept into his voice.

Patrick held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Wasn't my idea. I woke up this morning and they'd been moved—one to each end of the apartment buildings.”

“Well, I've been assigned digging duty until three,” Carter said. He hesitated before adding, “And security patrol from four to six.”

“What?” Shelby had been distracted, but now she focused on her son with the precision of a laser beam.

“Anyone sixteen and up is covering two hours,” Max explained. “Men and women.”

Carter looked pleased at being called a man, but Shelby shook her head and said something about the world collapsing around them.

“Where are you headed, Shelby?” Bianca asked. “Wait—I know that look. You're trying to decide whether or not to tell us.”

“Am not.”