Wendell came and took the spot beside her on the bench. “God is faithful.” His words were only a whisper. “Now you don’t have to wonder.”
She was quiet. Clearly processing. “Still . . . why would God . . . ?” Her voice trailed off. The new, more confident Alicia still had doubts. The way most people did in times like this.
An aching desperation came over Wendell. He wanted so badly to help her understand. Help them both. “God heard your prayer, Alicia. He heard mine.” Wendell chose each word with care. “The Lord worked a miracle with Dwayne. He’s in heaven. With Jesus now.” The truth was hitting Wendell even as he spoke. “He found salvation at the Raise the Bar club. And now . . . now we will see him again.”
The reality seemed to take a long while to fully sink in. Finally Alicia looked at him. “I like that.”
He felt his shoulders relax some. “Me, too.”
She looked at him, deep in his eyes. “I owe you an apology. I didn’t say it the other day on the phone, but I wanted to.”
Wendell waited, his eyes locked on hers.
“I never should’ve asked for a transfer. I could’ve worked through my anxiety in the background. And still been here to see . . .” She looked at Dwayne’s locker, then back to Wendell. “Everything I missed. The victories. Like Dwayne.”
“Alicia.” Wendell reached for her hand. “What if God wanted you at Jackson High School? To pray with your students after those kids died?”
She hesitated, like she hadn’t thought of that before. “Maybe.” Two tears fell onto her face. “Still . . . I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Wendell.”
“It’s okay.” He allowed a quiet between them. It was still hard to believe she was here, beside him. “Those days . . . they’re gone.”
Another hesitation. “I’m so sad.” She shook her head. “For Dwayne and his mama. For us. For what might’ve been if I’d stayed.”
Wendell wanted to cry, too. A boy’s life had been taken. The school would be in shock. He had to focus on caring for his student body. They had a memorial to plan. He looked out the locker room window. The sun was starting to break through the darkness. Pinks and blues streaked the sky. Like the night sky, they needed to find the light again after Dwayne’s death.
They stayed that way for a minute or so. Then Alicia stood. “I have to go.”
Wendell sighed. If only he could stop time. This was the first time they’d been together in nearly a year. And now she was leaving. He stood and closed the distance between them. Again he put his hands on her shoulders. “Thank you for coming.”
There were so many things he wanted to say. “Remember how you prayed about Dwayne? That God would do something special in his life?”
“Yes.” Alicia hadn’t moved any closer to the door. She was so beautiful, but so hurt at the same time. “I’ll always remember.”
Wendell looked deep into her eyes. “Why don’t you pray that way for us?” He gently took hold of her hands. “That God will do something special. A miracle like He did for Dwayne. So we’ll know what’s next for us. Friendship or . . . something more.” He paused and his voice grew quieter. “Whatever it is, I don’t want to lose you again, Alicia.”
Uncertainty and love mixed in her expression. “I will. I’ll pray.” She stepped away and mouthed just one more word as she left. “Goodbye.”
That was it. She reached the door and she was gone.
Wendell wanted to run after her, take her in his arms and ask her to never leave. He wanted to tell her that he felt dizzy and whole and wonderful just being around her. But all he could do was let her go and face the tragedy of Dwayne’s death. That and do the same thing he’d told her to do.
Pray for God to give them a miracle.
? ? ?
THE STUDENTS TOOK the news hard, the way Wendell had figured they would. He canceled classes and allowed them to gather in either the cafeteria or the auditorium. Wherever they felt most able to process. The school district sent in three grief counselors.
But most of all help came from the kids in the Raise the Bar program. Across campus they talked with their peers and prayed with them. They spoke words of peace and love and healing, and they assured the kids who were most afraid that Dwayne was okay.
He was in heaven now.
Still, Dwayne’s death struck the students particularly hard. Several students from Raise the Bar came up to Wendell before he left for court. “Will the media talk about this?” a freshman girl asked. “Will people think things are the same around here? Like nothing good really happened.”
Much as they were devastated at the loss of their classmate, the students were nervous that this could mar the proof that the group was making a difference. Wendell wasn’t worried about it. He ran into Jordy on the way to his car.
His son hugged him. Wendell studied the boy. “How you holding up?”
“I’m okay.” The pain in Jordy’s eyes made him look five years older than yesterday. “I keep thinking if I’d been a little more serious. If I’d forced him not to go. I could’ve convinced him to just stay with me and go to the Halloween party.”
Wendell started to shake his head. “Son, you know that’s not—”
“I know . . .” Jordy placed his hand on Wendell’s shoulder. “I know it’s not my fault. I just . . . I wish I could’ve kept him here. That’s all.”
“Me, too.” Sometimes there were no answers.
“And you know what else?” Jordy’s lips lifted in the slightest smile. “I keep thinking about something. With or without the club, sadly Dwayne would still be gone. But now I’m sure he’s in heaven.”
Wendell knew it was true. But hearing the words from Jordy now gave them new meaning. The Raise the Bar club really was a matter of life or death. He’d been dealing all morning with kids who thought the club should’ve made a difference for Dwayne. If he was getting closer to Jesus he shouldn’t have gone to the gang fight.
But here . . . this was the truth. The club hadn’t saved Dwayne from getting shot. But his faith in Christ, the faith he’d learned and accepted at the meetings, had saved him from hell. Which could still be true for many of the kids at Hamilton High. The Raise the Bar club was a matter of life or death.
If not in this world, for the next.
“Son.” Wendell gave his boy another embrace. “You’ve given me something to take to my lawyer.”
The two said goodbye and fifteen minutes later, Wendell met up with Luke Baxter in the foyer of the court building. Wendell looked around as he walked inside. The place was beautiful. Complete with ornate columns and beveled window trim and ceilings that seemed to stretch up forever.
Luke was there, sitting on a bench against the back wall. He gave a serious nod and stood to greet Wendell. The two shook hands, and Luke spoke first. “I heard about your student. Dwayne Brown.” He hesitated. “So tough. I’m sorry.”
“Yes. Long day.” Wendell could still hear his son’s words. He managed a slight smile, picturing Dwayne in heaven. “That boy found Jesus at our club. He’s in heaven now.”
“Well.” Luke nodded. “If that’s not something worth fighting for, I don’t know what is.”
Wendell patted him on the back as they headed for the courtroom. “That’s what I like to hear.”
Luke had already gone over the details. There would be no hearing today, just jury selection. Dozens of potential jurors would be gathered in the courtroom. Others would be on hand in case they were needed.
Wendell would simply watch while Luke did his work. If Luke were a very great artist, then this was the part of the process where he gathered his paints. He had told Wendell he already knew what types of jurors he wanted on the panel. Now it was a matter of finding them.
Luke had already submitted questions, as had Eli Landsford. Wendell had done his research. According to the Indiana Rules of Court, section 47-D, questions must be submitted ahead of time. Questions Judge Wells would ask the entire panel of possible jurors.