Come Stay Awhile

By Mureena Hebert

Throughout life, we all strive to make right choices. The testing of our choices comes in the form of the consequences down the road. In this story we meet Margaret, an elderly widow; Gage, an ex-policeman; Charlie, a homeless man; and a young pastor. All face an uncertain future as a consequence of choices they have made. Can the faith of one bring opportunity for new life and a new direction for them all? The answer can only be revealed if you Come Stay Awhile.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781098005382

Book preview

Chapter 1

There were two events happening simultaneously over 1200 miles apart, a mysterious phone call late at night and a man standing on a railway track facing an oncoming train; and the outcome of one event would greatly affect the outcome of the other.

The first event was happening in a small town on the Atlantic coast of the state of Maine, at 10:10 p.m. Arthur Holmes was sitting in his easy chair half-asleep in front of the television when his telephone rang. He seldom received calls after 10:00 pm unless it was an emergency, so when his phone rang, he immediately thought of his daughter in New York and his heart beat a little faster. Had something happened to her? Was she in some sort of trouble?

He reached the phone on its third ring and allowed his breath to escape in a sigh of relief when he recognized the voice of Dora, friend, companion, and housekeeper to Mrs. Margaret MacCallan, a widow in the town who was both friend and client. In fact, they had been friends for over forty years and now both at the age of seventy, looked upon the friendship as being part of their lives as much as the rising and setting of the sun.

Hello, Dora. No, that’s quite all right. I hadn’t gone to bed yet. Is there anything wrong? What could she possibly want at this hour?

Could you please come to the house right away. It’s Mrs. MacCallan. Dora had been a companion to Margaret since they were both sixteen years old. And still Dora insisted on calling her by her formal name. She continued, She has gotten herself in quite a state and insists on seeing you immediately. I tried to get her to wait until morning, but I’ve never seen her in such a state and so I thought it best to call you.

Shouldn’t you be calling the doctor instead?

It’s not a medical problem, Mr. Holmes. It’s more a matter of her wanting to get something off her mind, said Dora.

Well, if it’s not a medical emergency, can’t it wait until tomorrow? This was not like Margaret to be so irrational.

I don’t know all the details, but I think it has to do with her nephew, Sonny King. He was here earlier this evening, and when he left, she looked pale and was quite agitated. So it’s something to do with him, I believe. Can you come? I don’t think she will rest until you get here.

Yes, Arthur knew Sonny King. In fact, Sonny was what was known as a big fish in a little pond. A man known more for his ambition than his integrity.

All right, Dora. Tell Margaret I’ll be right over.

When he arrived, Dora must have been watching for his car, because just as he reached for the doorbell, the front door swung open to let him in.

Thank you, Mr. Holmes. Come this way. And Dora hurriedly led him into the living room where Margaret waited for him.

Margaret MacCallan carried her seventy years well. Her once raven hair, now a beautiful silver, framed an intelligent-looking face. The only telltale sign of age were tiny crinkles fanning out from bright-blue eyes that, despite the worry in them, still offered him a warm welcome. There are people whose character is stamped on their faces and upon meeting them, right away you are either drawn to them or repelled by them. Margaret MacCallan was a person that drew you to her.

She came to him and took his hand in both of hers. I’m sorry, Arthur, to bring you out at this hour of the night. But I need your help and the sooner the better. Arthur, I want you to find my grandson.

He stared at her in disbelief. She read his thoughts.

I know, Arthur. You didn’t even know I had a grandson. No one was supposed to know. Here, come and sit down. She ushered him to a sofa and sat down beside him. She continued, My daughter, Mya, and I, as you know, never really got along. She was her daddy’s girl. Thomas made sure of that. He wanted someone to mould into his own image. I was a total disappointment to him, so he turned to Mya, and she was a willing pupil. But anyway, when Mya was eighteen years old, she got pregnant. She wouldn’t tell us who the father was. Thomas was furious.

She stopped. I’m sorry if I’m speaking ill of the dead, but I think you understood what Thomas was like. Anyway, Thomas, thought the best way to handle it was to send Mya to his sister in Vermont until she had the baby and then Mya could give the baby up for adoption and return here as though nothing had happened.

And you agreed to that? Arthur gently asked, trying not to sound critical.

Yes, I did. I went along with the plan, and I have regretted my weakness ever since. I should have stood up to my husband. I should have at least tried to talk Mya into staying home and having the baby instead of giving it up. But I didn’t stand up to Thomas. Well, Mya went away, had the baby, a little boy, but she never came back. We suspected she went to join the baby’s father. When people asked about Mya, we said that she had decided to travel, and with one excuse after another, people stopped asking.

And you’ve never heard from Mya all these years? Arthur asked, thinking about his own daughter and how desolate would be his life if he never heard from her.

After the baby was born, we received a brief letter saying that he had been adopted by a nice family in Vermont but that she was not coming back. She said that she wanted her freedom and would be in touch. But we never heard from her again.

Margaret was finding this difficult to tell, but she continued on, Then as you know, Thomas died of a heart attack. I wrote to her at the last known address, it came back undelivered, but a wreath did arrive at the funeral anonymously. I think it was from her. I think there is someone here in Spring Falls that keeps in touch with her and tells her what’s going on back here.

By this time, silent tears spilled down her cheeks. It was such a sad story, and Arthur didn’t know what to say to console her. Instead, he offered a handkerchief and remained silent for several minutes while she regained her composure.

Margaret felt as though she wanted to go on crying for a long time, but rather than give way to the sadness of all that was the past, she forced herself to concentrate on the present.

He would be about thirty-two years old now. I have the letter she wrote to us when the baby was born with the postmark, but that is all I can help you with. But I know you, Arthur. You’re not one who gives up easily. If anyone can find him, you can.

Arthur took a deep breath. It would be a monumental task, he told her, although with the loosening of regulations regarding adoption information and with technology what it was today, it might be possible. He looked at Margaret, seeing the hope that shone in her eyes. He still had questions for her.

Why, after more than thirty years, do you want to find him now and how does Sonny fit into this?

It was her turn to take a deep breath. "Because I want to right the wrong that I committed all those years ago. Mya never had an interest in this place, and as I’ve told you, she wanted to get away from here.

"So I want to leave this place to my grandson, but I’m in danger of losing it to Sonny. You see, I was the one with the money. My father had left me quite a fortune. Thomas had no money of his own, he always had to come to me for any money he wanted, sort of an allowance. And he resented this terribly. He was also a gambler and not a very good one. So it was only after he died that I found out that over the years, he had mortgaged this place to the roof to pay his gambling debts.

I still have some of the money my father left me. It’s enough to live on but not enough to pay off all the debt. Sonny somehow found out about it and came here tonight to make me an offer. He said he would pay the mortgage to leave me debt-free if I signed the place over to him.

That sounds like a good offer, Margaret. Why don’t you take it?

Because he wants to turn this property into a gambling casino. Margaret’s voice bristled with anger.

Arthur tried to smooth her ruffled feathers, Yes, I can see why you would not want your home that your father’s money built turned into a casino. He cleared his throat and continued rather cautiously, Do you really think your grandson will be interested in this place? asked Arthur.

Well, we won’t know until we find him. Besides, I believe I owe him the chance to fight for what’s his. And I don’t want to see that rascal Sonny benefit from my father’s legacy. Will you help me, Arthur?

Rather reluctantly, he agreed to try.

Where’s the letter? I’ll start inquiries first thing tomorrow morning.

While this conversation was going on, the second event was unfolding in the railway yards of Chicago. It was a little after 9:00 p.m., just before dark with a lingering light in the night sky.

Charlie Evans loved this time of the evening, and the air still held some of the heat of the day. He would have to hurry if he wanted to get back to the homeless shelter before dark.

He picked his way along the railway line looking for what he called the odd treasure that he found there sometimes. The sky was now darkening quickly, and he turned to head back when some movement caught his eye. He turned fully around to view the tracks, and yes, he had been right. In the distance, a man was standing on the tracks, the ones Charlie knew were used by the 9:15 p.m. train from Boston every evening.

But who would be foolish enough to be standing on the tracks at this hour? He tried shouting to the figure, but there was no response. Charlie started walking toward the figure, waving his arms to draw his attention. Still no response. Charlie stated to run. At the age of seventy, he had encountered few reasons for running, so now his heart was beginning to pound in his chest with the effort, anxiety for the man still standing on the tracks, adding to the stress on his heart.

With growing alarm, Charlie began to realize that this man had no intention of moving out of harm’s way. Charlie tried to run faster, but his legs felt like rubber. He could now hear the train whistle, announcing the approaching train. It was coming. He yelled, waved his arms, and the figure turned. Charlie was near enough now to recognize the figure. He closed the few remaining yards and grabbed the man by the shoulders frantically.

Officer Lukas, what are you doing here? he cried.

Yes, it was Police Officer Gage Lukas. But the man who looked at him did so with eyes of such despair that it shocked Charlie. This was not the confident, engaging young officer who walked the beat and always stopped to have a word with him.

Charlie. The word came out like he was someplace far away.

Something was terribly wrong. Charlie grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away from the tracks. But it was futile. His little strength, drained away by fear, was no match for the determination of the young man to stand his ground.

Officer Lukas. You have to get off the tracks. Look, the train is coming! Please! The train was now in plain sight. Charlie was panicking now. Still, the sight of the train did not change the young man’s decision. He would end his life here, on the tracks.

The young man spoke very calmly to Charlie, Leave now, Charlie. Please go. There is nothing left for me now. Go.

Suddenly Charlie clutched at his own chest and gave an agonized cry of pain. He slumped down on the tracks at the feet of Officer Lukas.

The young man looked down at the crumpled Charlie who was still clutching his chest, his breathing laboured. The train was nearer. The engineer had seen them on the tracks and was now blowing the train whistle in short blasts. Charlie looked up at him.

I don’t want to die, his voice a hoarse whisper. Help me… Please!

Charlie locked eyes with Lukas who now seemed to at last recognize that the danger was no longer just to himself but to this innocent man that he was about to take with him to his death. The air was filled with the terrible screeching of the train’s brakes as the engineer tried to slow the train down.

Charlie closed his eyes. It would be over in a few seconds. Suddenly he felt himself being lifted roughly into the air and then landing on something hard and then rolling over and over. He felt the blast of air as the train swept past them. At last he lay still, barely believing that he was still alive. His eyes were still screwed tight. He opened them just a little at first, then all the way dreading what he might see. It was then that he realized that he was still clutched in the arms of Officer Lukas as they both lay in the gravel beside the tracks.

Charlie could hear the clickety clack of the train cars still passing them on the tracks nearby. They were both alive.

Charlie—Officer Lukas scrambled to his feet—come on, I’ve got to get you to a hospital. He grabbed Charlie to try and bring him to his feet. But Charlie seemed to be resisting him.

Instead, Charlie looked up at him from his place on the ground and asked, What for? I’m all right.

But you’re having a heart attack! cried the young man. Then he stopped, You’re not really having a heart attack, are you?

Charlie smiled. It was the only way to get you to move. I figured I knew you well enough to take the chance. Now help an old man to his feet.

Lukas helped Charlie to his feet, and Charlie being nearly the same height, looked the young man straight in the eye.

Now, I’m just an ex-accountant and a homeless one at that. But can you tell me what’s so bad that you were willing to take your own life over it?

The lights overlooking the tracks had come on in the gathering darkness, and Charlie could see that desperate, hopeless look had crept back into the young man’s eyes. He was silent.

Charlie thought, time to play hardball.

I nearly died out here risking my life for you. Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?

Lukas looked at Charlie. I have nowhere to go, Charlie. I quit the police force ten days ago or rather, I was pushed out, my girlfriend left me, my friends have turned their backs on me, and I’m broke. It’s all happened so fast. One horrible thing after another. I just felt buried six feet under and no way out.

So you thought you would do like that guy did a few weeks ago, just come down here and stand in front of a train, and it would be all over? I’m truly disappointed in you. Charlie intentionally made his voice sound harsh.

Charlie got the results he wanted. He saw a spark of anger in the hardening of the lines around the young man’s mouth. There was hope yet.

Look, Officer Lukas, said Charlie, I have to get back to the shelter. Come with me. You can spend the night there. Besides, I don’t like walking around here alone after dark. It would be nice to have a police escort.

I’m no longer a police officer. Just call me Gage, he said in a tired voice barley above a whisper.

Together they walked along under the street lamps. There wasn’t much traffic in this part of town this time of night, so they pretty well had the night to themselves. If he knew nothing else, Charlie knew he had to keep Gage talking. The man had just attempted suicide. The poison that had built up had to be dealt with.

You said you left the police force. I did notice there was someone else on your beat, but I thought you had probably been reassigned. Why did you leave?

Gage hesitated. There was pain in the telling of it, but he did owe it to Charlie to try and explain everything.

"It started when I reported to my commanding officer that I had evidence that a couple of the detectives weren’t turning in all the stuff from the drug raids. They were keeping some of it and profiting from it themselves.

"Well, he knew it was going on, but told me that as long as the big drug dealers were being caught, that was all he was concerned about and I was to keep my mouth shut. So I did for a while. But then I saw these detectives set up an innocent man to take the wrap just to take the heat off them.

I told my girlfriend about it, but she told me to basically mind my own business. Charlie, I couldn’t see an innocent man go to prison, so I took my evidence to the district attorney. I knew it would be bad for me for a while, but I didn’t think it would be as bad as it got.

Gage stopped talking. He was finding it difficult to go on, to relive it all over again. But hadn’t he gone over it and over it, time and time again? He knew that he would not have done anything differently, but it still hurt like a red hot poker.

Go on, prodded Charlie. Don’t stop. How bad did it get?

Charlie could see in the street light that Gage had begun twisting his hands together, and he could see him willing himself to continue.

"Well, it started with the whispers behind me when I passed by. Then the whispers got louder and turned into name calling, you know, snitch, turncoat, stuff like that. Then, my partner asked to be transferred. No one wanted to walk the beat with me, so I was sent out alone. If I called for backup, no one came.

"Then my girlfriend started blaming me for the fix I was in. You see, pretty well all our friends were in the police force, and they stopped coming around. She felt like she was being shunned by our friends too. But I told her to hang in there, that it would be over soon.

"But when the two detectives were suspended