The Prodigal Father

By Forrest Hutter

When his oldest son was born, Tom had stopped drinking completely. Now with two children and his wife, he had closed the chapter on that part of his story.

Life was never simple or easy for Tom, but he had all he needed to get him through it. Until he didn’t.

In the blink of an eye, he lost the person he loved more than anything… the one thing that always made him a better man, and his reason for everything that he did in life. His wife and soulmate, Emily. Along with her went his faith in a caring God.

The pain of losing Emily was too much to bear, and he found himself consumed by more darkness than he could handle on his own. He became unrecognizable as a father and a man, and each day continued down a path that there was no coming back from, or so he thought.

Even though Tom believed God had truly abandoned him and there was no way to make it Home, Tom learned that we are never alone and there is nothing God cannot do.

In an amazing and emotional story of hope, heartbreak and redemption, Tom’s story shows us that there is always a way back Home and nobody is ever past saving...

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Mar 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664224773

Forrest Hutter

Author Forrest Hutter is a survivor of childhood abuse who has used hardship to drive him towards success. He served in the armed forces as an Army Ranger in 2nd Ranger Battalion where he completed multiple combat tours before leaving active duty. He currently serves as a Police Officer in Washington state, where he lives happily with his fiancée, Hillary, and their rescue pit bull, Popeye.

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ISBN: 978-1-6642-2478-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6642-2479-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6642-2477-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021903601

WestBow Press rev. date: 3/12/2021

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

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CHAPTER 1

T he alarm chimed in Tom’s ear. He reached over and swept it to the side to turn it off. It hadn’t woken him. He was already up. In fact, he hadn’t gone to sleep. His grief weighed too much, and he had stayed up dreading the daylight.

Tom stood up slowly and struggled to take the steps to the bathroom. His body felt like lead had been poured into it. His head was aching and felt like it was going to burst from the inside. He had been crying all night. His eyes felt raw from rubbing the tears away.

He reached the sink and braced against the edge. The man in the mirror looked ragged. His eyes were the color of rubies, and the skin underneath them sagged as if falling from his face. His chin and cheeks had stubble that Tom rarely saw anymore. He would have to shave today.

He found the strength to shave and managed a shower. The hot water did nothing for his aching body. He stepped into his room and opened his closet. His suit was waiting for him. He had been keeping the suit for a special occasion. His thoughts were that maybe he could wear it to Jess’s eventual wedding or even Eli’s. Instead, he would be wearing it to a funeral. He swung his legs through the pants, buttoned his shirt, and tucked it in. His now feeble fingers fumbled with the tie as he wrapped the knot over and over again without success. He threw the tie onto the bed and started to let his tears swell.

What do I do now, God? I waited, and now it’s too late. Tom hissed the words. The sound of them seemed to strike back and cause him physical pain. All the years wasted, trying to ease my way back in, one conversation at a time.

Tom picked the tie back up and successfully completed the knot. He was supposed to speak today. He didn’t know what he was going to say. He didn’t feel he should be the one to say anything at all.

If only they all knew. If only they understood what he was feeling. It wasn’t just loss. It was regret. A heavy guilt that loomed over him, threatening to crush him.

Tom shuffled to the kitchen. The coffee had brewed automatically. He poured his cup and sat down at the table, refusing to think about anything other than the heat of the cup and the steam in his face. He could see through the steam to the mail holder in the center of the table. It was jammed with envelopes—all with Eli’s handwriting. All those words exchanged, and I never once said what needed to be said between us.

Tom poured his coffee down the drain. He needed to get out of this house. The silence was allowing his thoughts to scream in his ear. The air was still cool as the dew hadn’t even left the grass. Tom walked to his car and turned the engine over, letting it warm up before he put it in drive. God, take me somewhere.

He turned out onto the street and took a right. His mind shut off as he focused on the road. Stop at the stop sign. Look all directions. Slowly accelerate. The blinker click-clacked as he took a left and then drove past the broken-down grocery store.

A fire had ravaged the inside of the store quite a few years ago. The owners never fully recovered from the financial loss, and the store was never reopened. The town hadn’t yet torn it down. They didn’t need the space. The town wasn’t expanding any time soon. Tom drove down main street and passed the bar on his right. It had been a long time since he had stepped foot inside. He pushed those memories down as he continued to drive.

The theater on his left was showing one of those new superhero movies. It was a single-screen theater that had been family owned since it had opened more than twenty years ago. The prices were outrageous for movie tickets, but somehow, they always found a way to fill the seats. They had recently added a clothing and gift shop to the front end. It sold all kinds of oddities that had a representational touch of the town it came from.

Tom passed the library that doubled as the police station. There were two cops on duty at a time. The town population was credited at around four hundred people, but that didn’t account for those who lived twenty miles or more away and still had nowhere else to go.

Tom took a left and let his mind continue to idle with his engine as he cruised through the streets. Not many people in this town were awake this early on a Saturday. It was a community full of hardworking people. Most were small business owners who had a hand in keeping the community alive. Everything from hardware stores to grocery stores. About five miles north was a large lake that drew tourists during the summer for fishing season. The highway ran through the middle of town and would get slammed with traffic in a couple hours. People would stop at the bait shop or the liquor store and load up before they would head out to their cabins or resorts for the weekend.

Tom took another left and drove down the hill toward the train tracks. He felt his feet impulsively feather the brake as he reached the bottom of the hill. On his right was a condemned house. He could see the holes through the foundation that let him see straight through to the grass in the small backyard. Tom knew the house well. He used to rent it. There was a small addition on the south side that had been installed by the owners. Tom was sure it was never up to code, and during the winters, it was so cold that he had put two space heaters inside it just to keep it livable. The rest of the house hadn’t been much better. The stairs leading to the door always slanted to the right, making it feel like he was in one of those fun house tunnels that spun all around as a person walked through it.

The door was always stuck because the foundation was collapsing and putting pressure on the doorjamb. Inside, the place wreaked of old carpet and depression. The living room and the kitchen couldn’t have been more than fifteen feet together. On the right of the kitchen was the addition that threatened to give the person who slept inside hypothermia every winter. On the left was a bedroom that was the same size as the kitchen, and just beyond was a second bedroom, although it was only big enough for a bed and nothing else. There was a single bathroom in the back of the house next to the water heater that never gave more than a gallon of hot water. It seemed to join forces with the house addition and spray him with cold water to let the hypothermia take him even faster.

Tom could remember every detail about the house. He remembered every memory inside too. He could hear yelling and could feel the heat on his hand from the contact of flesh on flesh. He felt the shame wash over him and looked away from the house as he accelerated away. He passed the furniture store on the left that was also the only movie rental place in town. His daughter Jess had worked there in high school.

Tom continued down the road and felt the familiar bump as his car rode over the train tracks that ran through the back of town. A large, brick building was in front of him. It looked like it had been a factory at one point, but it had been the school. The building had molded the minds of kids from kindergarten all the way through graduation from high school. Tom remembered the number of children in the school outnumbered the town’s registered population. The school had been shut down to make a combined campus just outside of town that taught kids from not only his but from two other towns within thirty miles.

He saw the church. The service wasn’t until 4:00 p.m., and the doors wouldn’t be open until an hour before. He stopped in the parking lot anyway.

Tom could remember when Eli used to go to this church. He had started going in high school with other kids to something called a youth group. Tom had been against it at the time because he thought that God was nothing more than a story that people told themselves so death wasn’t so scary. Eli had gone anyway. He had even asked his father to come to the adult services on Wednesdays. Tom had said no and told Eli that the fairy tales they were telling him were only going to get his hopes up for something that wasn’t true. If only Tom had been able to see into the future, including the way Eli had never given up on him, no matter how hard Tom made it.

Tom reached over and pulled a book from the back of the passenger seat. Its leather cover was worn and cracked, and the crimson ribbon used to mark pages had begun to fray. The gold-colored lining on the pages was fading from hours and hours of fingers flipping through the pages to find just the right thing to say.

God, please speak to me now. I don’t deserve Your attention, and I don’t ask for comfort from my pain, but please give me something to let me know You are near. Tom let the book fall open in his lap and let his eyes scan the pages for words that could confirm the fellowship he desperately needed. The pages were wrinkled, and the words were splattered with highlighter and blue pen underline. Tom’s eyes scanned the ink and then his eyes caught words that stopped his search.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; He rescues those whose spirits are crushed. (Psalm 34:18 NLT)

Tom felt the words wash over him. A small sense of relief seemed to creep into his mind. Tom closed his eyes and leaned his head against the headrest.

But what of those who have been the crushers of spirits? Tom heard his own thoughts shatter the relief that had started to warm him. He opened his eyes and placed the Bible on the seat next to him. I deserve this pain, Lord. I don’t ask for liberation from my memories. Tom put the car in reverse and left the parking lot. He drove toward the highway, placing the church out of his mind. In his chest, he could feel the stinging pain that wouldn’t let him forget about his lost chance.

Tom drove across the highway to the coffee shop. He went inside and ordered his cup and sat down. He decided that as long as he remained in public places, his mind couldn’t get the best of him. If he stayed out of the house until the funeral and was able to keep it together until he got home, then he would be able to cry all his tears at his kitchen table. He needed to go over the letters again tonight. He needed to be sure that Eli had been ready in the end. He felt his own guilt start to cloud him again and washed it away with a sip from his cup.

Tom.

Tom looked up and saw Debbie from church standing at his table.

May I sit with you?

Of course. I need someone to fill my mind right now. He dipped his head toward the open seat across from him. Debbie sat down and placed her purse on the back of the chair.

I’ll be there later today. I’m bringing some of the food for the—the celebration.

Tom nodded and looked down at his cup of coffee.

We can talk about something else, Tom. I’m sorry. How’s Jess doing?

She’s doing great. She just took the position as her company’s public relations manager. She got a good raise with it too.

That’s great! What about her love life? Anyone that she had been seeing?

I don’t know. We don’t talk as much as we should. We keep each other informed on major events, but she doesn’t share anything too personal with me.

That’s okay. Every family is different. Sometimes I think my kids share too much with me.

Tom managed a weak smile at Debbie. It wasn’t their family dynamic that made them stay distant. It was Tom. It was memories from a different time that stuck to him like a shadow. He could never seem to get away from them and shed the dark likeness in order to feel truly connected with Eli and Jess. He knew what they saw when they looked at him. He had sat with Jess not less than a month ago and they had spoken about the past and the mistakes made. There had been tears and apologies, but no forgiveness had been offered. Tom hadn’t expected any. He knew it would take more than his words to make anything right.

She will be there today though? Debbie’s voice pulled Tom from his thoughts.

"Of course. She wouldn’t miss today. Eli was her knight. He fought off any evil that would come her way, no matter what it was—just like a big brother should." Tom trailed off and looked out the window at the highway that was beginning to come to life. Trucks towing boats had begun to fill the gas stations.

I’ve got to run, Tom. I still have to finish some of the sandwiches for tonight. Debbie’s voice was soft with kindness as she reached across the table and placed her hand on Tom’s arm. Tom looked over at Debbie, and she gave him a warm smile. She gently squeezed Tom’s arm and got up.

Tom watched Debbie walk out of the shop.

Debbie had been widowed a couple years ago. Her husband, Will, had been a contractor in town. He was working on a job when an accident happened. He had been holding a ladder while a bundle of shingles was being brought up. The worker had slipped and lost control of the bundle. It crashed down on Will, knocking him out with its eighty-pound force. Will was quite a bit older than Debbie, and his body was unable to recover. He spent a week on life support before Debbie had to make the decision. Tom didn’t wish that on anyone. He took another sip of his coffee. Debbie had always been kind to him. Tom thought about whether she would be so kind if she knew more about him.

He let his thoughts wander to the coming events. What would he say when he stood in front of all those people? If he spoke the truth, then he would say how he feared for his son’s soul. He feared that it might have been forever damaged and broken and didn’t have time to heal before it was taken. Tom let his mind go deeper into the dark as he questioned again if Eli had been ready. What if he had finally given up? What if Eli had finally succumbed to all the darkness that had plagued him? What if the childhood Tom gave him had collided with the struggles he had been facing in their recent letter exchanges? What if Eli didn’t believe anymore? Tom started to panic. He stood up and walked rigidly out to his car, leaving the almost full coffee at the table.

He sat in his car and turned the key. Fear and anger started to fill his heart. Why couldn’t You take me? Why couldn’t You take someone who deserved it? Tom let his voice raise with the words. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel and felt tears start to roll down his cheeks.

His heart was filled with bitterness and worry. He was angry at himself for not saying what needed to be said. He was angry for not knowing this was a possibility. He was angry for not trying to save his son like his son had saved him. He was bitter at God for punishing him by taking away Eli and leaving him to be haunted with his guilt and shame. I swear if You didn’t help him—if You didn’t see that he was struggling and help him— Tom spoke the words to God but felt them fall into his own lap. He knew the fault would rest with him for the rest of his days. He took a deep breath and wiped the tears from his eyes.

The Bible peered at him from the passenger seat. Tom looked at it and sighed. He could see Eli’s words in his mind.

I don’t understand this anymore. I’m not sure how I feel.

The words had been in one of Eli’s last letters to his father. He had stopped writing a few weeks before Tom got the news. Tom had felt the anger and confusion in the words. He had searched for the right thing to say from the book that was now sitting in the passenger seat. He wrote what he felt God was leading him to say. He sent the letter. He never got one in return. Now he had to speak at his son’s funeral.

Tom drove back across the highway and through town. He passed the church and headed out toward the lake. He still had plenty of time before any words needed to be spoken. His mind whispered his insecurities as he drove. He could feel all his doubts clinging to his soul.

"God, just do something. Tell me something. Tell me You have my boy and he’s forever home. Tell me You felt his heart and knew its truth and whisked him away. Tell me something," Tom whispered.

He rolled down his windows and felt the summer air as it was heating up with the climbing sun. He drove through the woods toward the lake behind a string of trucks and boats on their way to vacation. Tom turned right, onto a road that led to a sandpit that was used by the folks around here to shoot at. Eli used to go there to shoot his .35 magnum lever action that had been handed down to him from his grandfather.

Tom pulled into the pit. The gate was closed to vehicles, but you could always walk around and down into the pit. Tom put the car in park and closed his eyes. He needed a moment to collect himself. Tom listened to the breeze whisper past his cracked windows. He could hear the low hum of tires running against the warm tar as trucks and cars drove past on their way to the lake. A familiar clink of metal on metal as boats on trailers hit the same pothole that had been there for years. The sound lulled Tom to sleep. Tom succumbed to his exhaustion from the night before.

The father instantly cried out, I do believe, but help me overcome my unbelief! (Mark 9:24 NLT)

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CHAPTER 2

I t was 1996. Tom had just separated from the navy. Tom and his wife were living in Arizona just outside Prescott. Tom had gotten a job as a mechanic for a dealership in town. It seemed like an easy transition from being an aviation mechanic in the navy. His wife, Emily, had gotten a job at the hotel in town as a housekeeper. They had been able to secure a tiny house on a small piece of acreage away from the city. The property had a few fruit trees that were watered by the nearby farm. Every few days, the farm would overflow from flood irrigation and there would be a foot of water. It had been a hard selling point for the Realtor, but Tom was used to less than ideal living accommodations and he had convinced Emily it was a steal for a very small inconvenience. The house sat down from the road in a bowl-like fashion, which kept the water from draining. Sometimes for a couple days at a time.

Tom and Emily only had one vehicle between them. It was an old 1990 Jeep Cherokee. The paint was wearing off on the hood and revealing a gray-toned primer underneath. Anywhere that there should have been a shine had been replaced by a red, flaky crust. Tom told Emily that as long as they kept up on the regular maintenance, it would run forever.

Besides, it’s not like I can’t just fix it if something breaks. It’ll save us a lot of money so we can look forward to moving into a better place when the kids are ready to start school.

Eli was getting ready to start kindergarten. Jess was still content with being pampered and spending her days following Mommy around the house and napping. Tom worked days and Emily worked nights because they didn’t have the money for childcare.

When it’s time for both of them to go to school, I can come off nights so we can get time together, Emily said.

I know, but that’s not going to be for a couple years. I can do some work on the side to help with the saving. I’ve got a couple more buddies at work who have already asked me to fix their VCRs. If I start working on a few things here and there when the kids go to bed, we should be able to afford a babysitter so we can have more time together now instead of later.

That would be great, babe. Emily gave Tom a kiss and headed out the door. Tom heard the whine of the Jeep as it pulled up the small hill and onto the road. Eli and Jess were already asleep in bed. Tom looked in on them in their bunk beds. He remembered the night they had brought Eli home from the hospital after Emily gave birth. He was born on July 2. They had been walking into the naval housing area on July 4 with Eli in Emily’s arms. Fireworks started going off over the water. Tom remembered thinking that the concussions from the blasts were going to wake up Eli and send him into a fit.

Cover his ears. If this wakes him up, we won’t get to sleep at all tonight.

No, Emily had said. They are just welcoming him home. Eli never stirred in Emily’s arms, and Tom and Emily stood watching the fireworks, marveling at the bright sparks raining from the night sky.

Tom closed the door to their room. He sat down at the kitchen table and took off his work boots. It had been a long day. A customer had come in asking for an oil change that was promised on their warranty every 3,000 miles for the first 50,000. Tom had noticed a rear main oil seal leak when he was doing the routine check. It was common for the year and type of vehicle the customer had. Tom brought it up to his supervisor. Tom knew that the seal wear was fairly new and wasn’t in need of immediate attention. The man who had brought it in was an elderly gentleman who didn’t appear to have a lot of money. Tom told his supervisor that he planned to inform the gentleman to get it fixed at a later date but he should be good for another couple oil changes.

Do it anyways, and put it on his bill.

But that’s not what he came in for. Plus that will take some time and it will charge him for an hourly rate of work.

Look, Tom. If you tell the customer that it needed to be done for his safety, then I don’t see how he can fight you on that one. Besides, I got a look at him when he came in. He’s old. He will trust you, and from the looks of him, it’s not like he’s got a whole lot of time left to spend his money anyways. Tom’s supervisor chuckled at his own joke as he walked away.

Tom shook his head and could feel his hand tighten around the wrench. He looked down at his white knuckles and felt his jaw lock. Tom took a deep breath and released his flexing