Angel in the Street

By Yvonne Tillapaugh

Sue Stockard has dreamed of becoming a missionary to Africa since childhood. Dannerville Bible Seminary in Dannerville, New Jersey has the degree she needs to accomplish her goal. Just weeks away from achieving her dream she is assigned as an intern to Hand in Hand Coffee House, an inner-city ministry. 

 

Donovan, a fellow seminary student and co-intern, is too pretty for a guy, and Sue is determined to resist his charms. Stanley shares her goals for the future, but can she marry someone she is not in love with? Sue's view of the world and her place in it is challenged as she comes face to face with heartbreak and tragedy, and discovers along the way that appearances may be deceiving, as people are not always what they seem.

• Language: English
• Publisher: OK sisters
• Release date: Jun 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201102326

Yvonne Tillapaugh

Yvonne Tillapaugh is a mother of four, and grandmother of 8. Her and her late husband were long time residents of Denver, Colorado, where they founded Denver Street School, a private Christian high school for troubled youth, and a national ministry, Street School Network, to help individuals in other cities start similar programs.   Yvonne was a licensed Practical Nurse for 25 years, both in Oklahoma and in Colorado. She received her BA from Metropolitan State College of Denver and has taught music, drama, art, sewing, and science. She directed the Passion Play of Denver for ten years, and that remains one of the most impactful experiences in her life. She worked in retail also, managing fabric departments at both JoAnn Fabric and Hobby Lobby. She currently lives in Oklahoma, and enjoys reading, gardening, quilting, and writing.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Sue closed her eyes and pictured herself back in her luxurious bedroom overlooking the ocean on the opposite coast of the continent, and imagined the salty sea air wafting through her open French doors. Graduation was just seven weeks off, and she was looking forward to being back home in Santa Cruz at her parent’s palatial home, even if just for the summer.

She opened her eyes. Nope, still a shabby attic dorm room. The faded and peeling wallpaper, and dusty, turn-of-the-century wall sconces had not transformed into the cheerful yellow paint and crystal mini-chandeliers she had just been conjuring in her mind’s eye. She sighed.

Paula, I’m going to Miller. I gotta finish the POC paper for PA.

Paula looked up from her recumbent position on the bottom bunk and grunted. Paul’s Opposition to Christendom. Glad I got that out of the way last year. I hated that class.

Not my favorite, but I don’t hate it. Sue slid her books into her pink Louis Vuitton backpack and slung it over one shoulder. Hopefully I can get it finished before Friday so I can relax this weekend.

She covered the two blocks to the campus quickly, and stepped onto the sidewalk at Dannerville Bible Seminary. The library, an ivy-covered red brick manor, stood gracefully on the west end of the New Jersey campus, about four miles from the New Jersey coast.

In between Sue and her destination, two men exchanged a nod as they passed on the sidewalk; one tall, dark, and handsome, the other tall, awkward, and homely. The latter, Stanley, Sue would not have looked at twice except that she had learned in her first week of college that they both shared a passion for Africa, and over the course of her four years at Dannerville Bible Seminary, they had become good friends. The other, Donovan, she ignored simply because he was just too pretty for a guy. She had exchanged words with him, of course, because they were in several classes together, but she generally went out of her way to avoid him.

Stan waved at her from across the yard as he headed in her direction. You going to the library? He held up his notebook. I just came from there. Not too many people right now. Be a good time to get the reference books you wanted to look at.

That’s exactly what I was thinking. I need to find more stuff for the opposition paper for Pauline Apologetics. She closed the distance between them and looked up at him. His hair always seemed to be windblown, though there was not a hint of breeze at the moment. If he hadn’t been so tall, she would have been tempted to reach up and try to smooth it down. But though they spent a lot of time together, they weren’t really dating, and such a familiar gesture might make things awkward between them.

I am about halfway through with that paper. PA is hard, but it’s one of my favorite classes. I think Dr. Grove is brilliant.

Yeah, he is. Well, I gotta get to it. See you later. Sue smiled and waved goodbye, and continued down the sidewalk to the Miller Memorial Library. She had only two hours before the library closed, and a mountain of research to accomplish.

After an hour of scouring through several volumes of reference books and commentaries, with a short stack of unopened volumes still on the table, very few notes were scribbled between the narrow blue lines in her notebook. Her fingers hovered above the keyboard of her laptop while words tossed around in her brain, refusing to form into cohesive sentences. A total of three paragraphs winked at her from the screen, and an endless potential of blank pages lay waiting to be filled. Sue shifted in the hard oak chair and glanced around at the dusty stacks in the reference section of the seminary library.

The pages in the books on the table before her contained line after line of dry research transferred from one scholar's works to another's without the inconvenience of the writer leaving the sterility of his own study. Kind of ironic that she was attempting to do just that—transfer their research into her paper without leaving the campus library.

Sue tossed her shoulder length hair out of her eyes and sighed. She longed to be out there in the real world, learning and observing real people, living and experiencing real life. Ever since Natalie Winslow, a missionary from Africa, came and spoke to her Sunday school class when she was a child, she had wanted to go across the ocean to strange and different cultures that had never heard of Jesus. Dannerville Bible Seminary was Miss Winslow’s alma mater, and Sue decided to make it hers as well.

Donovan came in and set his notebook down across the table from her. Hey, Suze. He smiled, showing his even white teeth that sparkled under the fluorescent lights like something straight out of a toothpaste commercial. Working on the Pauline Apologetics paper?

She nodded. But I really prefer Sue, if you don’t mind. Her given name was Sue. Not Susan, not Susie, not Suzy-Q, or any of the other iterations people felt compelled to use instead of her given name. Why couldn’t people call her by the name she used to introduce herself? It wasn’t difficult. Nicknames are just irritating.

Donovan was irritating in particular. Any guy who had eyelashes so thick it looked like he wore mascara, and had the most perfect skin imaginable, certainly could not be trusted. He was just too smooth and good looking. Anyone as handsome as Donovan must have an ego to match. Sue had no desire to date someone better looking than herself, and she thought herself quite plain. At 5’ 7" and 110 pounds, she felt skinny and awkward.

She was too tall for her weight, and her face was too thin. Her hair was neither curly nor straight, and neither blonde nor brown, but some blah color in between. One teacher in middle school had called it dishwater blonde. What an ugly way to describe a girl’s hair. She hated that term, and despised that teacher afterwards. She thought her eyes were too big for her face, like a cartoon character, or the Precious Moments figurines. Except that her eyelids never went away. If she opened her eyes as wide as possible, you could still see her upper eyelids, just hanging there as if they had nowhere to go. In fact, her eyes couldn’t even decide what color to be. They had bits of amber, green, gray, and blue. Her mother described them as hazel. Sue found it quite irritating. Why couldn’t they just be either blue or green? When she pictured herself standing next to Donovan, she just imagined people thinking, What’s that hottie doing with that plain Jane beanpole?

I know your name is Sue, Miss Stockard, but the only time you will ever talk to me is to correct me when I call you Suze.

Sue stared at him for a second, her cheeks beginning to warm. Was this guy for real? He called her by the wrong name just to get a rise out of her? She wanted to gather her books and march over to another table, just so he would know she had no interest in him whatsoever. Unfortunately, this table was the only one in this section of the library, and the reference books could not be removed.

Any answer she might give, no matter how witty or sarcastic, if she could think of such a response, would only encourage his behavior. Better to keep quiet and concentrate on the dry text in front of her. There were plenty of women on campus who would be delighted to make small talk with him. Why couldn’t he go bother one of them?

You know, I’ve found that Compton had a really good handle on Paul’s writings. Donovan pointed to one of the books in the stack next to her. What do you think?

Sue glanced across at him and shrugged. I suppose he does. She returned her attention to her laptop.

Who else have you researched?

Sue’s lips tightened into a straight line. This guy just couldn’t take a hint. I really need to get this finished. Do you mind?

He didn’t answer right away. Sue typed a few sentences onto her laptop, aware of his eyes on her. She forced herself not to look up to see his expression, though she imagined he would be shocked at any female not hanging on his every word. She kept typing as though she had an important point to make until he finally picked up his notebook and walked away.

A mild stab of guilt assaulted her, but it quickly passed. He would get over her snub. She could think of at least a dozen other girls who would give their right arm to sit across from him and flirt. She tried to sneak a peek under her eyelashes, but he had left the section.

She reread what she had just written.

Paul could not have imagined what his life would become in just a few short weeks when he stood holding Stephen’s clothing while the mob threw stones. The appearance of Jesus on the road to Damascus altered everything. His physical eyes were blinded by the light of God as the eyes of his understanding opened. Suddenly he understood why Stephen could ignore the pain of the sharp rocks hitting his flesh and cry out for God to forgive those who were stoning him. His eyes were like brown pools of chocolate under a canopy of thick lashes...

What? Where did that come from? It sounded like a line right out of her roommate’s romance novels. Sue quickly backspaced, erasing the last line, her cheeks burning. She couldn’t let Donovan’s beautiful eyes bewitch her. He was not her type. He was always smiling, surrounded by other beautiful people, and hanging with the popular crowd. He would be a perfect youth pastor. Everybody loved him.

Stanley Novitsky was more her type, if she had a type. Tall and skinny like herself, with an acne-pocked face, serious grey eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses, a long nose and thin lips, Stan fervently desired to become a missionary to unreached tribes in Africa. He had been on several mission trips, and talked about his experiences frequently. They rode to church together and usually ate lunch together after PA class three times a week. They went to concerts and lectures on campus, and once to a philharmonic orchestra concert with a group from the college choir. They had never gone on an actual date, and that was just fine with her. They were really good friends. That was all.

A mental picture of her and Stan in a dusty village, surrounded by dark-skinned natives made her smile. Primitive huts circled a central open area where the village came together for different activities. Stan held up his Bible and spoke about the love of Jesus while the natives nodded. Little children inched forward and touched her long skirt, grabbing her hand and stroking her white skin. A hunting party came in to the village carrying an antelope that they would prepare for a feast for the white missionaries.

Loud laughter on the other side of the library snapped her back to Dannerville, New Jersey, and she jumped. The images from the daydream disappeared and she rubbed her eyes and tried to bring her focus back to her paper. She stared at the laptop, shifted her gaze to the book on the writings of Paul and tried to read, but her brain refused to allow it. She finally gave up, slammed the book shut, picked up her laptop and walked back to the dorm.

Chapter 2

Barkley House was one of seven old Victorian mansions scattered in an eight-block radius of the main campus of Dannerville Bible Seminary that served as dormitories. The third floor had three small rooms, one of which Sue shared with her roommate, Paula. Lindy shared the room to the left of the bathroom with Cassidy. Julie had the room to the right. Sue had requested this room after her sophomore year, so this was her third year here.

DBS was a four-year seminary offering Bachelor of Arts degrees in Biblical Studies, Christian Ministry, and Evangelism and Missions. The Missionary Baptist affiliated college also offered Master’s degrees in Divinity and Evangelism and Missions. Sue was just a few weeks away from her B.A. in Evangelism and Missions.

Paula looked up when Sue came in and closed her book. Did you get it done? she asked, her mouth full of popcorn from a bowl balanced on her belly.

No. Sue kicked her shoes off and plopped on the bed next to Paula. My brain is fried. Too many dead theologians kicking around up there. She grabbed a handful of popcorn and tossed some into her mouth.

Paula laughed. Her large belly bounced up and down and the popcorn bowl almost tumbled over. Oops, she giggled, and grabbed the bowl. I guess I’d better put this on the bed. My belly doesn’t make a very good table when I’m laughing. I’m too fat.

Oh, come on, Paula. You’re not fat, you’re well rounded. Sue grinned and tousled Paula’s short brown hair. We can’t all be Barbie-doll-perfect. Speaking of perfect, guess who sat down by me in the library and wanted to talk?

Paula swallowed. Um, Jennie Applegate? No, Donetta Perkins?

Donovan Bradford. Sue watched Paula’s mouth drop open.

What? You talked to him? Her eyes were about to pop out of her head.

Well, I sort of told him to get lost.

Get out of town, you did not! Paula smacked her in the arm with the novel she had been reading earlier. Why?

Sue shrugged and grabbed another handful of popcorn. He’s not my type.

Paula stared at her like she had just grown a second nose. Not your...not your type? She swung the book again, this time on top of Sue’s head. Good grief, Sue. If Donovan Bradford is not your type, there is something seriously wrong with you. Paula threw her hands in the air dramatically, her book sailing over Sue’s head, bouncing off the slats of the top bunk, and landing on Paula’s pillow. Give me one good reason not to like him.

Sue tilted her head to one side. Well, for starters, his eyes are way too pretty for a guy.

Oh, yeah. That’s just unforgiveable!

And he has perfect hair, perfect skin, and perfect teeth, and he probably thinks he’s...all that. Sue crossed her legs and leaned back against the bedframe.

"Um, hello, Sue. Donovan Bradford is all that! AND ‘a bag of chips!’ She held up her hand and started counting on her fingers. He’s good looking, smart, funny, his dad is the pastor of the largest Baptist church in town, and he drives a mustang convertible. He loves God, she started on her other hand. He is kind, and doesn’t make fun of fat people even though he probably wouldn’t date one, he’s sexy model handsome, he’s about to graduate summa cum laude, and he’s available! Did I mention good looking? I’m gonna have to start using my toes. I’m out of fingers and I’m not even done yet."

"Yes, you mentioned his looks, and I don’t dispute that. He’s too good looking."

You’re unbelievable. You know what you are, Sue Elaine Stockard? You’re a reverse snob. Some girls will only date guys who are good looking. You think a guy has to be ugly on the outside to be beautiful on the inside? Show me where that is written. Paula shook her head.  What exactly did he say to you?

Sue took a deep breath. He just tried to make small talk. I told him I was busy. She stood up and started changing into her pajamas.

Was he flirting with you? You didn’t hurt his feelings, did you? Do you think you made him mad or anything, or do you think you might still have a shot? Paula pulled her 5’2, 170-pound frame off of the bottom bunk and followed her around the small room. Or was he so broken up he needs consoling? Where’d he go? Should I go look for him and give him a soft shoulder to cry on?"

Sue turned around and took Paula by the shoulders. Paula! Calm down! I don’t want a shot, okay? But maybe next time I see him I’ll tell him my roomie would like to marry him.

Paula gasped. Don’t you dare! You had better not, Sue, or I’ll—

Relax, Paula. I’m joking. Sue picked up her toothbrush and toothpaste and headed down the hall to the bathroom. Paula followed her out the door.

Did he say anything about me?

Sue ignored her as she pushed the door open and stood at one of the two stained sinks. She put toothpaste on her toothbrush, and started brushing her teeth. Paula just stood there waiting for an answer.

Well, did he?

Sue leaned over and spit. No, Paula. He didn’t say anything about you.

"Did you say anything about me?"

The subject didn’t come up in the ten words we exchanged, okay? Sue splashed water on her face and dried off with a paper towel. Now will you let it drop? It wasn’t that big a deal.

Paula followed Sue back to their room and sat back down on her bed. The cutest guy in the school sits down by you and tries to have a conversation, and it’s no big deal? Yeah, you get that all the time, I’m sure. But I don’t. It’s a big deal to me. I’m just trying to live vicariously through you, because I know I will never have someone like Donovan Bradford chasing me around.

He wasn’t chasing me. He just sat down at my table, and asked a couple questions. That’s all. I don’t know why you have to make a big deal out of it. Sue fluffed her pillow and crawled under the covers. I’m sorry I mentioned it. Kill the light when you’re done reading, okay? She turned her back to her roommate and closed her eyes.

Chapter 3

The sun peeked through the dormer window, bouncing off the metal of the fire escape and illuminating the dust motes floating in the air. The stuff we breathe into our lungs , Sue thought as she rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock on her desk. She had another five minutes before the alarm went off, but she might as well get up and get dressed. Lying in bed with her eyes closed wasn’t helpful on any level.

She climbed down off the top bunk, carefully avoiding Paula’s arm which was flung across the side of the bed and hovered over the book she had dropped on the floor when she fell asleep reading.

Paula read more than anyone Sue had ever known. Always Harlequin Romances with a scantily clad woman clinging to a shirtless man on every cover. She had an entire bookcase stacked with them. When Paula wasn’t in class, you could usually find her seated on the shabby yellow love seat in the common area with a bag of Fritos, a carton or two of strawberry yogurt, and a can of diet Sprite on the cardboard box that served as an end table, her book in hand, and her 1970 cat-eye glasses on her nose.

Sue walked into the low-ceilinged room where campus food services were housed and dropped her backpack on an empty table. The internships for the final quarter of school were posted on a large bulletin board in the foyer, and several students crowded around, trying to find their names on the list. Sue waited until she had finished her breakfast and the crowd had thinned somewhat. She found the list for upperclassmen and located her name. Hand in Hand Coffee house appeared in the space next to it. That was the street ministry downtown. Barry Gunn, the director, often came on campus to guest lecture, and was quite a popular speaker. Mild and soft-spoken, he would be wonderful to work with. She scanned the list for the other students who would be assigned with her. Jan Woodrow, who was married and lived off campus, would be joining her, and...oh no! Donovan Bradford? Great. Just what she needed.

Sue frowned and carried her tray to the window. Donovan would offer to drive, and even though she had her own car, it would be awkward to refuse. She would have to sit in his mustang and converse with Mr. Too-pretty-for-a-guy twice a week for four weeks. But at least she had gotten the internship she wanted for the last quarter. From what she had heard, the Hand in Hand Coffee house was a mission field right here on the East Coast of America. The homeless and inner-city misfits were a completely different culture just a few minutes away.

Sue couldn’t wait to get started. She had been waiting to do a mission internship for four years, and this was as close as she was going to get. The summer mission trips would have been great, but her father had insisted that she come home for the full three months. She had agreed to work in his business during the summers in exchange for him paying for tuition and books, and sending her a $500.00 allowance each month. He could easily afford to send