Read The Breakthrough Online

Authors: Jerry B. Jenkins,Jerry B. Jenkins

Tags: #FICTION / Christian / General, #FICTION / Religious

The Breakthrough (4 page)

6
Ranger

Florence began setting serving bowls on the table in her tiny kitchen, smiling at the laughter coming from the next room. Haeley’s brother sure seemed to be enjoying
SpongeBob
, or Max, or both. “Time to shut that down now, you two!” she called out. “Dinner in two minutes.”

“C’mon, little buddy,” she heard Alfonso say. “Let me show you how Rangers wash up for chow.”

When they joined her at the table, Alfonso’s eyes were wide. “Whoa, man! Look at this feast. We never saw anything like this overseas, and I haven’t been back long enough for my mama to feed me.”

“You haven’t seen your mama?” Florence said.

“Just for a minute. I came back through Fort Benning in Georgia, then hitched my way home to pick up my car. Drove all night to get here.” He grabbed Max’s shoulder and rocked him in his seat. “Didn’t want to wait another minute to meet this guy. Didn’t it surprise you a dark-haired girl like Hael would have a blond kid? You can see where he gets it.”

“I sure can!”

“And Haeley doesn’t even know I’m stateside, let alone here, so Mama and Daddy are sworn to secrecy.”

“I assume you’re a believin’ man like your sister,” Florence said.

“Yes, ma’am, washed under the same blood you are.”

“Then would you mind askin’ the blessing?”

“Honored.” He reached out and the three of them held hands. “God is great, God is good, now we thank Thee for our food. Amen.”

“Amen!” Max shouted. “I got to learn that prayer!”

“I can teach you,” Alfonso said as they passed bowls and dug in. “But first I want to teach you the Ranger creed. Know what that is?”

Max shook his head.

“Well, it might take me a while, because I’m going to be eating at the same time, but I’ll get through it.” He cut himself a large bite slathered in sweet red sauce and filled his mouth. Florence cut Max’s meat while Alfonso chewed.

“What is this, by the way, ma’am?” he said, reaching for his iced tea.

“Pigs’ knuckles.”

Alfonso laughed. “I’m glad I tried it before I knew that! It’s good! I like it.”

Florence beamed. “I’m tickled. I had a feelin’ they’d be new to you. And how about you, little one? You like pigs’ knuckles?”

Max nodded and said with his mouth full, “But I didn’t even know pigs had fingers.”

After helping clear the picnic table and schlepping things into the kitchen, Fletcher Galloway suggested everyone congregate in the basement rec room, “where it’s cooler and the Cubs game in LA will be coming on.”

“Okay if Boone and I join you in a few, Mr. Galloway?” Margaret said. “We just need to chat.”

“Suit yourself,” he said. “We got no agenda.”

“Still okay with you, Haeley?” Margaret said.

“Sure,” she said with a sigh. “I think I’d better lie down awhile anyway.”

“You okay, hon?” Boone said. “Eat too much?”

“She hardly ate at all,” Dorothy said. “Don’t think I wasn’t watchin’.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Galloway,” Haeley said. “Everything was delicious. I’m a little under the weather is all.”

“Just teasin’,” Dorothy said. “You take a load off. You don’t have to watch the Cubs.”

“Oh, I’m a fan, but I’m afraid I need a little peace and quiet, just for a little while.”

“You do look pale.”

“Do I?”

“You do, babe,” Boone said. “Would you rather I take you home?”

“Oh, no! If I can only rest a bit.”

“Let me show you to the guest bedroom,” Dorothy said.

“Is right here all right for us, Boone?” Margaret said, nodding at the picnic table.

They sat across from each other, the sun toasting Boone’s head, shining off Margaret’s hair, and baking the concrete.

“You know I’m more’n twenty years older than you, right?” she began.

“Never thought about it, but yeah, I guess.”

“Sweet. C’mon, you know I’m an old lady.”

“You don’t play old; I’ll say that.”

“Old enough to be your mama.”

Boone shrugged. “Where you going with this?”

“Just sayin’. I’m going to tell you about my mistakes. I knew better, and I take full responsibility, but I need you to give me the respect due your elder. Can you?”

“I told you once; you’re not going to get any judging from me. I’m not about to tell anybody how they should live.”

“But you can’t deny you were surprised to find out I was a Christian. There I was, livin’ with your boss, carrying on, and I tell you I was raised just like you. Made you curious, didn’t it?”

Boone cocked his head. “That’s fair.”

“Well, my story’s a lot like Haeley’s, only I went further and stayed in the muck longer. Plus I’ve got former husbands.”

“Why do you feel you need to tell me all this?”

“I want to tell you what happened ’cause I consider you a brother in Christ.”

“I am that.”

“Then let me.”

“The Ranger creed is an acronym,” Alfonso said, “Know what that is, little buddy?”

Max shook his head.

“Well, ’course you don’t. It just means that every line of the creed starts with a different letter, and all the letters spell Ranger. Understand?”

“We don’t do spelling yet.”

“Well, let me run ’em down for you anyway. Someday you can memorize the creed like I did.” He glanced up at Florence. “He’ll understand some of this, won’t he?”

“I ’spect he will. He’s a smart boy.”

Alfonso continued to eat throughout his recitation. “Okay, the first one, which starts with
R
because
Ranger
starts with
R
, is: ‘Recognizing that I volunteered as a Ranger, fully knowing the hazards of my chosen profession, I will always endeavor to uphold the prestige, honor, and high esprit de corps of the Rangers.’”

Florence saw Max’s eyes glaze over before he looked away. She said, “That jes’ means he signed up for that job of being a Army man, so he’s gon’ do it with all his might.”

Max nodded.

“That’s right, ma’am. Then, ‘Acknowledging the fact that a Ranger is a more elite soldier who arrives at the cutting edge of battle by land, sea, or air, I accept the fact that as a Ranger my country expects me to move farther, faster, and fight harder than any other soldier.’ Can you make that one simple for him?”

“Rangers are the best, so he’s got to be faster and tougher.”

Alfonso was beaming as he chewed, and Florence could see Max was following now.

“‘Never shall I fail my comrades,’” Alfonso said. “‘I will always keep myself mentally alert, physically strong, and morally straight, and I will shoulder more than my share of the task, whatever it may be, one hundred percent and then some.’”

“That means the other Army men can count on him.”

“‘Gallantly will I show the world that I am a specially selected and well-trained soldier. My courtesy to superior officers, neatness of dress, and care of equipment shall set the example for others to follow.’”

“He’ll never forget to act like a gentleman.”

“‘Energetically will I meet the enemies of my country. I shall defeat them on the field of battle, for I am better trained and will fight with all my might.
Surrender
is not a Ranger word. I will never leave a fallen comrade to fall into the hands of the enemy, and under no circumstances will I ever embarrass my country.’”

“Your Uncle Alfonso will always do his best and never give up.”

“‘Readily will I display the intestinal fortitude required to fight on to the Ranger objective and complete the mission, though I be the lone survivor.’”

“Even if he’s the last one alive, he’ll show guts.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, Aunt Flo,” Alfonso said. “Great job. And great barbeque.”

“I want to be a Ranger!” Max said.

“Everybody should, little man.”

7
Revelation

The sun was so unrelenting that Boone made a visor of his hand, despite that he was already wearing sunglasses. Margaret was doing the same, her pale skin reddening and her freckles darkening before his eyes.

“I’m gonna keep this short for both our sakes,” she said. “What turned me was abuse. Both my first husbands knocked me around, and to tell you the truth, I never did understand that. Thought it was my fault at first. I was raised in a good, Christian family. My daddy was a little standoffish, but he was the real deal. Maybe I didn’t get enough hugging and I-love-yous, but I never doubted he loved me, and he was good to my mama and all of us. Problem was my first husband only pretended to be a Christian, and by the time I found out I’d been hornswoggled, we were already on the skids. He was drinking and beatin’ on me, wouldn’t go to counseling, and I wouldn’t take any more, so that was that.”

“Sorry,” Boone said. “That’s rough.”

“Not as rough as how my family treated me after that.”

“Blamed it on you?”

“Divorce is wrong and a sin—bam, done.”

“Like it was your fault.”

“They thought I coulda done more, and maybe I could have. But I wasn’t gonna live with anybody that hurt me. Guess I coulda just separated and got his attention and made him do what was right, but I didn’t. All of a sudden I’m more alone than I could imagine. Divorced
and
without a family.”

“They abandoned you?”

“Wouldn’t even speak to me. Still won’t. ’Course, brilliant me, I jump right into another romance. Found me a man who didn’t pretend nothin’. Wasn’t even a churchgoer, but nice, quiet, gentle, showed me lots of attention. And he didn’t drink.”

“But you say he hit you too?”

“Says I drove him to it. Maybe I did. Bunch of stuff worked together to kill that marriage. He proved to be boring. Didn’t want to do anything. Didn’t even wanna talk much. I was still young, wanted to go out, see people. He thought I was a flirt. Maybe I was. I’ve always been friendly, look you in the eye, smile. And when your husband pays you no mind, maybe you do look for other connections. I wasn’t looking to cheat on him, but he thought I was. Only thing I got out that marriage, ’sides a fat lip and a black eye, was my daughter.”

Boone looked up and squinted. “I didn’t know you had kids.”

“Just the one. She’s in heaven.”

“Sorry.”

“The one thing I did right. Told her about Jesus. Took her to church. Got her saved before she got sick and died on me. Spinal meningitis when she was eleven. I gotta tell ya, Boone, that put me in the dumper. I was no good to anybody for years, except the guys I persuaded to keep me warm at night. Drugs, booze, and more men than I care to count.”

She paused as if for a response, but Boone found himself speechless. Margaret seemed such a precious woman. Friendly, outgoing, selfless. Yet wounded. He shifted position and found the exposed wood of the picnic table blistering.

“Still listenin’, son?”

“You know I am.”

“Curious ’bout what brought me to where I am today?”

“Right again.”

“One more marriage. I was in a bad, bad spot, totally away from the Lord, goin’ to AA but still smoking dope. We were unfaithful to each other almost from the beginning, and it didn’t last long. That brings me up to just a few years ago, before I met Jack. Somehow I got my act together except for me and God. Decided I didn’t want to grow old alone. Kicked my addictions, got me a job—”

“You were working in an old-age home when you met Jack, weren’t you?”

She nodded, digging a floppy hat out of her bag and plopping it on. “Stop grinning, child. You know you’re jealous. You want to find a cap?”

“I’m all right, but you do look goofy.”

“’Least I won’t have a sunburned scalp. At least slap some sunscreen on yours.”

She rustled in her bag again and squirted a dollop into his palm. He rubbed it onto his head with both hands as if washing his hair.

“Now who looks goofy? Anyway, one thing I always knew: a girl didn’t ever have to be out of job if she was willin’ to work. Just do what nobody else wants to do, and the money will follow.”

“That’s what you found at the—?”

“You betcha. Lotsa people want to push the old-timers around in their wheelchairs, but not many’ll bathe them and change their diapers.”

“You liked that?”

“I know it sounds weird. Part of me did, yes. I mean, that stuff wasn’t on my bucket list, but the Lord put something in me—empathy, I guess—that made me want to live out the Golden Rule with these people. They deserve dignity, and they deserve dry clothes and a clean body.”

“That’s what Jack loves about you.”

“That’s not all he loves,” she said with a wink. “Aw, look at you, Boone. You’re the only man I know can blush through sunburn.”

“I’m not blushing.”

“You are too.”

“Well, that was too much information.”

“Sorry. You know he and I are behaving ourselves now.”

“That’s what I want to hear about.”

“I’m getting there. Jack was investigating something, questioning one of the old men about something, and passed me coming out of a room with an armful of soiled sheets. We chatted, and I saw that look. ’Course he’s a beautiful man, but I couldn’t imagine him taking an interest in a woman over a mess of smelly laundry. But he did. We started seeing each other, and—”

“You moved in.”

“I did. And it wasn’t long before I was in love.”

“Now, see,” Boone said, “that’s interesting. That’s the first time you’ve mentioned love, and you’ve talked about a lot of men.”

“I loved everything about Jack. Still do. Besides that he’s true blue as a Boy Scout, takes care of himself, is smart and funny, he’s just so drop-dead honest. No games. No puzzles. You know exactly what he thinks every minute, whether you like it or not. And I happen to like it.”

“That’s the thing,” Boone said. “Over the years I’ve seen Jack with his former wives and more than a few girlfriends. And I never saw him in love before either.”

Margaret fell silent and shook her head.

“He really cares for you,” Boone said. “You know that, right?”

She nodded. “The difference is, I love him too much to stay with him. I care for his soul.”

“How’d that happen?”

“I’d become a different person, but not different enough. It was like I had pulled myself up by my own bootstraps, whatever that old saw means. Cleaned up my act, grew up a little, quit making such horrible decisions—except moving in with him. I fell so hard for Jack, it scared me. I waited till the shine wore off and finally realized it was the real thing.”

“And that made you run?”

“Hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“But why?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Florence pushed her chair back from the table in her tiny kitchen and folded her hands over her belly. “Whoo-whee!” she said. “I did me some damage with all o’ that!”

“So did I,” Alfonso Lamonica said. “And how ’bout you, Max?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

Florence and Alfonso laughed. “But you filled yourself right up,” she said, “didn’t you, little man?”

“Uh-huh, but I still want munch-a-politan.”

“He wants what?” Alfonso said.

“He can’t say Neapolitan, that three-flavors ice cream.”

“One of my favorites,” Alfonso said.

“His absolute favorite, but I couldn’t force down another bite of anything right now; could you?”

“No!”

“Yes!” Max said. “Ice cream!”

“We need to let this settle, soldier,” Alfonso said. “How ’bout we help Aunt Flo clear the table like good Rangers. Then maybe we can play in the park before we come back for dessert, hm?”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“Okay what you said.”

“‘Okay, sir!’ And let me teach you to salute.”

Max didn’t quite master the salute, but he seemed pleased to be helping his uncle clear the table.

“I need to sit a spell,” Florence said. “Catch my breath. Maybe watch me some Cubs.”

“You’ve earned that, ma’am. We’re going to wash the dishes for you—”

“Oh, just leave ’em. I’ll git ’em later.”

“Not on your life, Aunt Flo. You’ve done your part. It’s time for us to do ours. You just relax.”

Florence settled onto the couch and used the remote to eject
SpongeBob
and switch to WGN. With one out in the top of the fourth, she lost the battle to keep her eyes open.

What an intriguing person.
Boone Drake studied the handsome, aging southern belle as she recited her story. Margaret was a little old for his taste, so it wasn’t like he was attracted to her in the conventional sense. But he could sure see why she had drawn so much attention in her prime. It was her personality as much as her earthy sensuality.

“I got the impression Jack was getting ready to pop the question,” she said. “And I was feeling pretty good about that. Did I want to be married for the fourth time, and to a man with the same record? No. But I’m a romantic. I believe there’s someone for everyone and that sometimes it takes a lifetime to find your soul mate. I know it’s starry-eyed thinking, but that’s where I was.

“Strangest thing, though. One night Jack was workin’ late—with you, I think—and I stayed in, turned off the TV, and just sat thinking about our future. I liked what I had to look forward to and decided I’d say yes. Give it one more shot, this time going for broke. Don’t ask me what that one means either.

“Anyway, for the first time in decades—in fact, since just after my daughter died—I found myself wanting to pray.”

“Really.”

“You believe that?”

“Sure. One of those life moments.”

“But I’d been so far from God for so long, I had no business—”

“Yeah, but—”

“I know; I know. He was still there. I was the one who had moved. But still, when I found myself asking God if I was doing the right thing, I honestly expected him to say, ‘What’re you askin’ me for? You haven’t cared up to now.’ Don’t imagine God talks that way, but that’s what I was expecting.”

“And what
did
he say?”

“Well, ’course he didn’t say anything. He never has—to me, anyway. I guess he talks to some people, if you can believe ’em. He just sorta impresses stuff on me, you know?”

“I do.”

“He pretty much just opened my eyes. He wasn’t telling me I didn’t deserve to be happy or be in love. But it was like truth just washed all over me. I sat there knowing that I had been rationalizing, justifying living for me, doing what I wanted to do, the heck with what I knew God would want. It was my true love for Jack that opened my eyes. All of a sudden I just knew that if I married Jack, we wouldn’t be equally yoked and I wouldn’t have done a thing about the way I was living.”

“So that’s when you gave Jack all those conditions?”

“Was that how it came off?”

“Well, to him, sure. And that’s how it was, wasn’t it?”

Margaret leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table, supporting her chin with her fists. “First I went back to church, started listening to Christian radio, brought home some Christian books, and—”

“Quit sleeping with Jack.”

“He told you that too?”

“He wasn’t happy.”

“I know I made things difficult for him, but I tried to explain. I wasn’t too happy with him either, that he had told me all about you being a Christian but never mentioned my faith to you. I mean, I was what they call backslidden, living in sin, all that, but I knew better. I was a believer. I worried I was too far gone and that God wouldn’t forgive me and take me back. My parents were both gone by then, so it was already too late to reconcile with them. I had to figure this out on my own.”

“Jack has some church background.”

“True,” she said, “but not a good one. I guess when he was a teenager he went with friends for a year or so, but it was one of those churches that was all about working to try to be good. He liked booze and girls, so he never felt worthy. ’Course, you and I know nobody can earn salvation anyway. But the whole rules thing turned him off.”

“And so did your leaving him and telling him that if he wanted to see you it had to be at church.”

“It worked.”

“I know, but he still says he’s not comfortable and that it doesn’t feel right to go only so he can see you.”

“I told him it’s not a date and that he has to go without me sometimes too.”

Boone sighed. “Guess he doesn’t think it’s fair.”

“And maybe it isn’t. But I know it’s right. I can’t be marrying him, and certainly I can’t be living with him, the way things stand.”

“But you still love each other.”

“We sure do. And that makes it tough.”

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