Come Before Winter – Chapter Twenty-One – shameFULL
December 21st, 2021
2 Timothy 4:21, “Do your utmost to come before winter.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-0NE – shameFULL
Mercy had run all the way home; well, to her address. It really wasn’t home, she had sniffled. Her chest burned like a fire had been set inside, an ember revived, a forest fire sparked. ‘Mercy! Mercy! Come back!’ the echo of Gwen’s pleading like heartburn, returning repeatedly regurgitated memories, gnawing on them, and suffering from their after-effects. All of it, laminating itself forever for safe-keeping.
Mercy wanted to throw up, could feel her heart in her throat just like that heartburn. She’d never hyperventilated before but remembering a time when one of her foster friends had and she’d googled how to help the little guy. She didn’t have a brown bag, but, once safely inside her room, she improvised, breathing into her cupped hands. Her phone rang and rang and rang. Eventually she turned it completely off, knowing it was Gwen, annoyed at her persistence. She more than half expected her to show up, so Mercy barricaded her door and turned off all her lights and shut her three blinds. She’d never see her again, she knew. Why did she do that? Mercy pondered. Trick her, it seemed, lure her there, cryptically trying to snare her. What was her game; Mercy tried to put herself in Gwen’s head, but for the life of her, she remained puzzled.
The memories of the encased newspaper articles, black and white proof etched in her mind, wasn’t anything Mercy could escape. Eventually, Mercy answered one of the numerous ignored calls from Patsy. For the first three minutes perhaps Mercy had only wept, Patsy unable to help in any way other than listen. She’d no idea what she had yet to hear. Finally, ‘Can you just google June 30, 2005, for Denver, Colorado, and then call me back after you read the articles?’ she asked in a small voice. It took about twenty minutes for Patsy to call her back.
‘Whew,’ was all she said. The shame Mercy felt, she decided was tattooed deep into her being; the grief ensuing, inescapable. She had yet herself to read the newspapers, but she didn’t really need to. She recalled it all the same and she doubted her memories were very jaded. She’d had everything—and nothing—to lose. The explosion, her mom (?) she assumed (she still had no recollection of her), like a ragdoll collapsing against concrete blocks, and people, her dad, her Papaw, a handful of men, scattering like ants doused in diesel fluid. Rumors became facts, the meth lab busted and the men on the run finally brought to justice after months of investigation, culminating in the rescue of an unnamed child, left to fend for herself at age three, her mother’s life likely forever changed by the explosion which affected her mind and trapped her at the age of a young child for the rest of her life.
An insane amount of money as well as drugs were confiscated. It was considered the largest drug bust to date in the city. Many lives were affected, good and bad. And then a strange thing happened. The newspaper reported, approximately a dozen executed quit claim deeds for the properties known as ‘the drug heist properties, 2005’, were received anonymously at the District Attorney’s office. The city now owned them, free and clear. ‘Continuum’ was born, and its first resident when the doors opened, placed there by her sister Gwendolyn Jones, was Grace Jones, ‘the young woman who almost lost her life, caught in the fiery furnace of a potentially deadly meth lab explosion in 2005’. The article went on to read that the facility Continuum was made possible in the aftermath of that fateful night.
The pieces of a mystic puzzle had begun to take shape and form and put themselves into place, and although Mercy and Patsy don’t speak them aloud, they both silently agree. Mercy imagines the years, the hard years, her dad and grandfather have had to pay as penalties, but in all the hours she has free to let her mind wander, due to the letter she received, Mercy is certain they have served their time and are now free. Unless…could they possibly still be in prison, and that’s why she has never had any further communication?
Psalm 23, “Yahweh is my best friend and my shepherd. I always have more than enough. He offers a resting place for me in His luxurious love. His tracks take me to an oasis of peace near the quiet brook of bliss. That’s where He restores and revives my life. He opens before me the right path and leads me along in His footsteps of righteousness so that I can bring honor to His name. Even when Your path takes me through the valley of deepest darkness, fear will never conquer me, for You already have! Your authority is my strength and my peace. The comfort of Your love takes away my fear. I’ll never be lonely, for You are near. You become my delicious feast even when my enemies dare to fight. You anoint me with the fragrance of Your Holy Spirit; You give me all I can drink of You until my cup overflows. So why would I fear the future? Only goodness and tender love pursue me all the days of my life. Then afterward, when my life is through, I’ll return to Your glorious presence to be forever with You!’ (TPT)
To Be Continued…
