“Sorry!” She held up a hand. “I’m sorry we’re late.” She set him at the end of a row next to one of the few small families in attendance.
The Mitchells had one little boy, Jerom, who was about five, and another on the way. They’d been the first group to welcome her last Sunday, and their beautiful little family was so easy to remember in this group of predominately bald heads.
The little boy stared at the older man wrapped in a plaid quilt and slumbering away. Jerom reached out a finger as if to poke him. Sam, the dad, shoved his arm back to his side and gave him a look that told him to hold still or else.
The nurse leaned over Jerom and stage-whispered to Sam. “I’m just going to leave him here for a minute and catch a smoke outside.”
The man suddenly lurched about, making his chair rattle.
“Is he okay?” asked Camille. She absently ran her hand over her swollen belly. She was due any day now.
“Oh, he’s fine.” The nurse batted away her concern. “He likes the music. Might even try to dance.” She winked and rushed out the door, tapping her box of cigarettes against her palm as she went.
“Welcome, everyone.” Seth’s deep voice filled the room, drawing attention away from their visitor.
Evie drew in a breath, relishing the sound of Seth’s voice. He had the power of speech within, soothing and yet commanding. He gave the opening prayer, and then they all sang together.
Evie watched to see if the old man would indeed try to dance. He held pretty still. He was pale and leaned precariously toward the pew. Jerom looked at him more often than not. It was like he couldn’t stop. Sam nudged him and pointed to the words in the hymnal.
Evie glanced at the back doors, wondering how long the nurse would be out.
After the music ended, Seth began his prepared sermon about Peter the Beloved. “I think we can all relate to Peter’s need to provide for his family and his desire to serve the Lord. He had real-world concerns.”
There were nods.
Evie’s heart warmed and her love for the people in the congregation grew as she watched them support her husband. Seth hadn’t come from a place of love; he’d landed in one, though. At least, she hoped so. The members of the board had stony faces.
There were two teenagers in attendance today, but there should be more. She’d talk to Seth about starting that youth program again. They almost had the yard under control, and she’d have some free time.
Seth continued, “Worldly concerns might have been what Peter struggled with, when he asked the Lord if he could join Him on the water.”
Evie’s eyes dropped shut as the words and his rich voice flowed through her. He continued to open up the story of Peter, who leapt over the side of the boat in eagerness, but then saw the waves and the storm and the threats and the fears and began to sink. It was as if Seth had been created for the purpose of weaving together this truth to speak peace to her soul. Her desire to be better, to be the disciple who would leap from the boat to join Jesus, swelled within her.
Suddenly, someone cried out. Her eyes flew open to find the source of the interruption.
Jerom jumped up on the pew and pointed to the visitor. “I think he’s dead.” He poked him in the shoulder before Sam could grab him. “Wake up, dude!” he yelled.
The whole room gasped as one. Seth’s words cut off. Sam grabbed for Jerom.
Evie shot to her feet and ran over, not sure what she was going to do but willing to help. She leaned down in front of the stranger. “Sir?” She gently shook his shoulder.
Seth was suddenly behind her, his hand on her back.
“Where’s his nurse?” she asked. A strange sense of calm came over her, and a part of her knew that this man’s spirit had passed through the veil and he was already with his maker.
“I’m right here.” Led by Mrs. Green, who must have run out first thing, the woman walked in as if she had until Resurrection Morning to figure this out. She bent down and thumped him in the shoulder. “Yep. He’s dead.”
“Told you,” Jerom said to his dad. Sam shushed him.
“Shouldn’t we do CPR?” Evie asked in astonishment at the nurse’s blasé attitude. She’d never seen anyone die before. The little boy stared at the body. She got the feeling that if there was a stick around, he would have poked the man with that too.
She stepped in front of him. His mom grabbed him and scooted to the other end of the pew.
“But I wanna touch him. If he’s dead, he won’t care!”
Evie coughed to cover her laugh. Thank goodness he wasn’t traumatized. Little boys!
The nurse took out her phone and checked the time. The smell of cigarette smoke lingered around her. “We were expecting it to be any day now. He told me last night that his dying wish was to go to church once more. Looks like it all worked out.” She grabbed the wheelchair handles and addressed Seth. “Mind if I keep him in your office, Preacher? I have to make some phone calls.”
