Mercy: Chapter 2

The most important thing is to be whatever you are without shame.
- Rod Steiger

Josh came to small group that night, like Belle had asked. He hadn’t really expected to be the youngest there, but that was okay. He also hadn’t really expected to see anyone else in a chair, but there was somebody.

He sat positioned between a couch and a chair, his wheelchair almost wedged in the space there. Josh couldn’t help but notice it was more than the chair that was forced about this guy’s demeanor. He was so defensive he might as well have built an actual wall around himself to keep people out. The other thing Josh noticed is that the person occupying this chair didn’t look as if he’d done so for long. He looked quite average, and quite miserable. Josh could tell by the way he sat that the guy was paralyzed - even though he was trying to hide it by positioning his legs in a more normal way. But Josh knew flaccid limbs didn’t cooperate with intentions, and they rarely if ever passed as normal.

“Jared,” the guy introduced shortly, seeing the kid staring at him.

“Hi Jared, I’m Josh.” He waved.

Jared waved back, his expression sarcastic and bitter. This kid was annoying.

Everything about Josh bothered Jared. He sat like he was proud. He looked like one of the kids Jared beat up in middle school - a nerdy type with glasses and button-down shirts. His hair was short, almost buzzed. His eyes were blue, and innocent, probably hoping that he had found a best friend in Jared. Well, the kid was incredibly misguided if he thought that.

“Why doesn’t your new friend tell about himself?” Mikhail asked, happy to see yet another new face in their growing group.

“All right.” Josh answered, though the question was put to Belle and Andrew. “Well, like I said, my name’s Joshua. I’m fourteen, and I’m in classes with Belle, and a couple with Andrew. I have an older sister, Katerina, who’s away at college, and I miss her a lot. And also, I had a stroke in utero, which is why I have my wheelchair. My left side is paralyzed, but it doesn’t impede me really.”

“It doesn’t impede you..” Chris repeated from across the room, smiling. “Did you forget to mention you’re a genius or something?”

Josh shook his head. “Not a genius. I work above grade level, but that’s been normal for me for a long time. Thanks though, that’s cool you think that. What’s your name?”

“Chris,” The guy introduced, saying his name warmer than Jared had said his.

Chris was a large man with a shaved bald head that was covered by a beret. He was African American, and as much a football player in build, as Josh was a weakling. Chris had warm eyes, the color of a dark, strong coffee, and a smile with dimples that framed it as often as it came. He looked like an easy-going person, and Josh decided he had found a friend, even if Chris didn’t know it yet.

They talked about prayer, and how important it was. Josh knew a lot about school subjects but not really anything about religious stuff. He always figured prayer was important. He even had a Bible, but he didn’t really open it, though it wasn’t because he couldn’t understand it. He just had never been interested in it very much. He took the Bible as truth, but didn’t really get how it applied to his life today. After all, the Bible was old history. But after hearing Belle and Andrew fighting - or discussing, as they called it - at the lunch table - Josh was intrigued.

So he listened all through what was being shared. At the end, they all prayed for one another. Josh was picturing a whole bunch of rote prayers, but that wasn’t what happened. Alex, a girl who looked like she’d been through some big life crisis recently, asked if they could pray for somebody named Ryan. He saw the long scar on her neck. He would have to remember to ask her about it later.

Eventually, the praying was over. He was glad he hadn’t asked his mom to take him and pick him up, since afterward, they visited with one another. Josh made his way over to Belle, who was talking to a girl her age.

“Oh, Josh. This is Elise.” Belle introduced, nudging the girl forward a little.

Elise crouched in front of him, so they were at eye-level. She looked as if her balance got away from her sometimes, but she still did it, and Josh was appreciative.

“Hey,” she greeted, shaking his hand warmly. “It’s nice that you’re here.”

She was so genuine. He smiled.

“Do you go to school with us?” Josh asked, hoping he hadn’t missed her somehow.

“No, I go to school in the…um…I go to Jefferson, so I don’t really live close to here.” Elise explained.

“How do you know Belle?” Josh wanted to know, grateful now that this had turned into a long conversation, that he didn’t have to crane is neck up to see her face.

“Well, Robby’s my brother. The short one with blonde hair…and he and Kylie…do you know Kylie? The really beautiful girl over there with dark skin and dark eyes? She’s dating Robby, and she went to this group. So a few months ago, she invited Robby, and I came too.”

Josh considered this. “So you live with your brother.”

“Yeah,” Elise looked at Belle, seeming uncomfortable suddenly.

“Well you girls go talk. I’ll be back in a minute.” Josh called, and maneuvered his chair through the crowds of people. He spotted Alex on the end of one of the couches and headed there.

It was much harder than he wanted to make it look. Even though a lot of people thought that with his condition, he should have an electric wheelchair, few of those people realized what they were talking about in terms of expense. The manual one had cost enough as it was, and Josh had been determined to make due. He had leaned to push himself with one arm, first on one side and then the other. It had taken time, but eventually he’d mastered it, and made it look fluid.

Doing anything more than pushing himself, though, was still difficult.

On his way to Alex, Josh had snagged a couple cookies off the table, and balanced them on his lap. Concentrating hard, he made sure to keep the cookies on the leg he could feel, so he’d be able to tell if they started to fall off. Long ago, he had mastered the art of hiding any struggle he faced. It looked like he did this every day. No one offered to help, and that’s the way Josh wanted it. He stopped in front of the couch, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw the two cookies still balanced on the napkin on his leg.

“Here, you want one?” Josh asked curiously. He held the chocolate chip one out to her, knowing that was everyone’s favorite.

Her face looked drawn and tired. Josh thought he saw tears in her eyes, but wasn’t sure. Alex shook her head.

“You look thin--”

A smile threatened. “Not true.”

“You look like it to me.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Well, thank you, I’m flattered.”

“You shouldn’t be. ” Josh maintained seriously, knowing she looked sick. “Eat the cookie.”

The last comment was said so earnestly, and with so much directness that Alex sat up a little. She took the cookie, startled. “Thanks.” she mumbled.

“You’re welcome…and I didn’t mean to offend you if I did.” Josh apologized. “I just meant you look sick. Not that you look bad.”

“It’s Josh, right?” she asked, breaking off a piece of cookie and putting it in her mouth. It felt heavy and tasteless. Eating was burdensome now. When had that happened?

Josh nodded, taking that as his cue. “This might be kind of personal, but I was wondering about your scar?”

“What about it?” Alex asked, though his question stung her heart.

“I just was curious about what surgery you had.”

Alex put a hand behind her head, ripping the elastic out of her hair, so it fell around her neck and shoulders. “I had a lump removed from my thyroid that they thought might be cancer.”

Josh nodded. “I had surgery on my arm,” he turned over the useless left arm that sat in his lap to reveal a long scar, extending the length of inside his forearm. “I don’t know what it was for, but the scar would sometimes make me uncomfortable…so I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“A little,” she allowed. “But I’m over it.” Josh turned, preparing to go. “Hey, thanks for the cookie.”

“No problem.”

She heard the smile in his voice, and it brought a small one to her lips as well.

--

“So what’s the deal with the band?” Micah asked Kenzie, washing the dishes as they were put in the sink and setting them haphazardly in the little drying rack.

Kenzie sighed, obviously not liking the topic of choice. “I don’t know. I’ve been with them a long time. What? Like four or five years or something? “

“You were that little garage band, that had shows,” he snickered.

“We were good then!” Kenzie insisted, swatting him with a dish towel.

“So what about now?” Micah wanted to know. Over the last several months, he’d been hearing less and less about Tarnished - the band that had once been Kenzie’s passion. Not so long ago, she’d been sure they were on their way to getting a record deal.

Kenzie walked to the next room to gather any stray plates and then returned to Micah with a lone coffee cup and empty cookie plate.

Micah eyed them, and then looked at her.

“The coffee cup was Gabe’s,” Kenzie explained rolling her eyes. “And he was probably hoarding all the cookies too while he and Missy talked politics in the corner over there away from everyone,” Kenzie pointed. “Anyway…Rick’s still living in a fantasy land about record deals and women. Jock’s just a snot-nosed little follower, who’ll suck up to Rick and do whatever he wants.”

“Jock…” Micah scoffed.

“His name’s not really Jock, it’s Peter, but he changed it to Jock ‘cause he thinks it sounds tougher, or gives him an edge or some crap.” Kenzie explained, disgusted.

Finished with the dishes, Micah turned from the sink and looked his friend in the face. “You never answered me.”

“Because I don’t want to admit it’s a dead end…” Kenzie spoke quietly. “They don’t want me as their friend, they want me as their vocalist, and their writer.” She studied the linoleum under her feet.

When she raised her head, Micah was staring at her, the question still burning in his eyes.

“I have to quit.” she admitted. Her voice cracked, and she shyly hoped he would think it was from stress and overuse, and not from the tears she was trying to hide.

--

Belle stood before her car, wondering how she was going to get Josh in. His mother had done it when Belle had stopped by to pick him up. But now, Andrew had inexplicably disappeared. She knew instinctively that even though she could lift Josh herself, that he wouldn’t be comfortable with it.

Reading her thoughts, Josh surveyed her face, and looked around them. “Is there a guy around?” he asked hopefully.

From two cars away, Elise saw Belle’s dilemma. Robby and Kylie were talking about something in hushed voices, but she knew they wouldn’t mind.

“Hey, Robby? Can you go help Josh?” she asked softly. She didn’t want Josh to hear, and be embarrassed.

Just like she thought, her brother stopped what he was doing and went to Belle’s car.

Like his sister, Josh observed, Rob got on his level, squatting so they could see each other. “What do you need?” he asked. “I’m Rob, by the way.”

“Yeah, I met Elise before. She pointed you out.” Josh smiled. “Um… Just basically a lift from here to the passenger seat if you can do it.”

Rob nodded, and without any prompting, he moved to Josh’s left, scooping him up easily, and making sure his weak side was secure, while Belle expertly folded the chair and stowed it in the trunk of her car.

“You’ve done this before,” Josh nodded approvingly, a grin spreading across his face again.

Rob nodded faintly. “See ya, buddy. Have a good week.”

“I will. Thank you,” Josh called. He thought Rob might have smiled before he turned around to go to his car, but Josh couldn’t be sure, as it was so dark.

He turned to Belle as she buckled her seatbelt.

“You have the coolest friends,” he told her sincerely.

She grinned at him. “You’re more than welcome to come back anytime. Just give me a call, and I can come by and get you.”

Josh nodded. “I’ll definitely be back.”

--

Belle sat at the table feeling stunned. Andrew had stood her up.

It wasn’t like they were dating or anything, but they had made plans to get together. Actually Andrew had made the plans, and now he wasn’t here. She had even called him, and he’d shrugged her off, as if it hadn’t been important in the first place, and she took everything too seriously.

“Belle?”

The voice was familiar, and definitely not Andrew’s. She turned, and saw Gabe sitting comfortably by the fireplace, a cup of coffee in his hand.

He was wearing big winter boots and a hat, so he almost didn’t look like himself. But Belle saw his jeans and long-sleeved dress shirt; she saw his eyes, and she knew it was Gabe. She should have known he would be at a coffee shop. But she hadn’t expected it.

“Hey, Gabe…” she greeted, waving his direction.

“Come sit over here, it’s warmer…” he invited.

Belle had looked cold and undeniably exhausted, sitting at the little table by the door, when he glanced up from his Bible and noticed her. Though she wore her brown leather coat, and gloves, she hadn’t worn a hat or boots. She sat hunched against the cold wind every time the door opened and shut. Gabe knew she would be more at ease by the fireplace than she was alone by the door.

“Are you waiting for anybody?” she wondered, seeing the empty chair across from him.

He shook his head. “Nope. Just me and God.”

Belle walked over, and indicated the large leather seat. “Is this God’s chair?” she teased.

Gabe smiled. “Very funny. Sit down,” he invited.

Happily she joined him, relieved that she had company after all. She wasn’t quite ready to go home yet.

“So, what’s up?” Gabe asked. “You were sitting alone.”

“Well, Andrew was supposed to meet me, but something came up for him,” Belle excused, not knowing why she was letting him off the hook.

“What’s the coffee of the day?” Belle wondered, studying his nondescript cup.

“Cider,” he answered, taking a sip. “I love it this time of year. What’s yours?”

“Some espresso thing…” Belle made a face. “It’s really strong.”

“You should get your money back.”

“It’s not that bad,” she dismissed, holding warm cup in both hands, feeling grateful there was some way to get circulation back in her fingers.

For a moment, neither one spoke, both nursing their beverages slowly, and listening to the Christmas music play overhead. The song was pleasant and familiar, and for once, both were content to listen. Belle resisted the urge to add her voice to the song, and create a harmony line, loving it for its sameness. The song and its artist were dated, but that didn’t matter. Both of them sat for sometime, simply listening to the classic tune, and doing nothing to fill the silence.

“You look tired,” Gabe pointed out.

“I am…there’s so much more homework this year,” Belle complained mildly.

“You taking any honors classes?” he asked, knowing she would take anything advanced, except maybe a math class. She was smart.

“Honors everything except math,” she smiled.

Gabe sat back, and laughed. “I knew you’d say that. I remember you always begging off early Sundays because of your math homework. If you and Missy weren’t talking about something spiritual, you were doing equations or something.”

“Not much has changed.” she shrugged.

“Do you and Andrew have a lot of classes together?”

“We do, actually. Me and Andrew and Josh have half our classes together.”

Gabe raised his eyebrows. “That’s how you know Josh? He takes classes with you?”

Belle nodded. “Honors English and Chemistry.”

“You have Honors Chemistry?” Gabe was speechless.

“It’s Advanced Placement - not that interesting though. Andrew, Josh and I are lab partners. Josh’s been bragging to us about how he got to make soap when he was in regular Chemistry last semester before they moved him up.”

“I bet you wish you got to do that, huh?” he teased.

Belle rolled her eyes. “I’m horrible in math. I can barely pass Algebra II. I don’t know how I got convinced to take AP Chemistry. It makes no sense. And I’m horrible at it.” Belle took a drink of espresso, looking defiant.

“What’s your grade?” Gabe tried.

“Last time I checked it was an A…” she admitted. “But it’s hard to understand.”

Laughing, Gabe put his cup down on the little side table. “I’m sure it is. But you probably think that because everything else comes to you easily.”

“Well, for me, everything else is Concert Choir and Honors English. Nothing’s too challenging there.”

“So how have you been?” Belle asked, hating for a conversation to be one-sided.

Gabe stretched his legs. “I’ve been good. Working. Trying to figure out what to do with my life.” He perked up momentarily. “I’m goin’ back to Atlanta for Christmas. You wanna come?” he teased, knowing that she had family there.

“I think we’re having Christmas here.“ Belle couldn’t hide her disappointment, though she knew there was no way she would ever be allowed to road trip to Georgia with Gabe.

“So what do you think you wanna do?” she asked, switching topics suddenly.

“What?” Gabe stared at her, confused.

“With your life? You said you were trying to figure out what to do with it. What do you think you wanna do?” she pressed.

“You know what? I don’t even know,” Gabe looked let down.

“School?” Belle wondered. She knew he had gone to college, at least some. Most of the older kids had. Unlike Missy, though, Gabe seemed content with the unfinished. She doubted he would return to college, and she doubted he would ever regret his decision to stop going.

“I don’t think so. I mean, I did a little bit. But I don’t think there’s anything I wanna do long-term that I’d be willing to drop a lot of money for, you know?”

“Maybe missions?” she guessed.

“Maybe…” he grinned. Gabe knew her heart for missions already.

Belle smiled. “South America’s a good place to start. It’s warm like Georgia, too,” she invited sweetly.

“Or I could go to Russia with Mikhail and Maria,” Gabe joked. He knew the chances of him traveling to a random South or Central American country were about as good as his chances of being invited to spend the holidays with his European friend, and his wife, the next December.

“You act like it’d be impossible to go out of the country,” she quipped.

Gabe considered this. “It’s not that, really. As much as…I feel like I wouldn’t have much to give.”

Belle’s gaze softened. “That’s how I felt the first time I went out,” she sympathized. “The thing you come away realizing is that what people really need is your love. They need to know about God, of course, that’s why we go. But if you’re not loving to them, it won’t matter what you say. One trip I went on, I worked in an orphanage. I just played with kids all day, and they loved it. It was a difficult trip for me for personal reasons, and I spent most of it feeling like I wasn’t doing a good enough job and feeling selfish. But ultimately I knew that it was where God wanted me, even though it was hard for me to be there.”

“I guess you never know until you go,” Gabe reasoned.

Belle smiled again. “Whatever you do, you’ll be a blessing.”

“I’m glad you’re sure,” he laughed.

Belle looked at her watch, knowing she should be heading home. “Well, thanks for inviting me over,” she said, standing. “I have to get going though, my mother’s expecting me back.”

“Thanks for talking,” he returned, standing, too.

“Enjoy your cider,” Belle called over her shoulder, bundling up against the chill outside.