Watchword: Redemption Book IV

By Ronan James Cassidy

THE REDEMPTION SERIES: 100 years after Margaret Anne transformed an American family, comes the profound 4-part finale to the Calhoun saga.

BOOK FOUR: Watchword


Sacrifice birthed the unsettled world of Margaret Anne. Now, only surrender can pave the way for closure.

When David returns from exile, he and Miss Sonny begin the process of reconciling the sins of the past, seeking the favor of a secret ally, and setting the stage for the long-awaited arrival of David’s final hours of reckoning and sacrifice.

Watchword unveils the final remnants of the legacy of the Spanish Cross, David’s divinely inspired task, and the last secrets of his dark and mysterious past. To learn the rest of the truth, clear the way for the new things that belong to a brighter future, and begin the process of atoning for his past sins, David is forced to resolve what he may of his relationship with his irreparably heartbroken and delusional mother, declare his true feelings for the only woman he ever loved, and invoke the spiteful, two-sided nature of the man responsible for the worst of his suffering.

What David discovers about himself and each of those unyielding forces of nature in his life is certain to captivate any reader who is fascinated by the internal and external conflicts that exemplify the epic struggle between the principalities of good and evil here on earth.

When David accepts the fact that he must embrace a position that renders him nearly helpless unless he is willing to do the unthinkable yet again, he finally comes to understand the joy and beauty of giving his life up to God. He hears the watchword that was given long ago.

“Watchword” is the exciting and thought-provoking conclusion of the Redemption series, uncovering the next intricate layer to the Margaret Anne saga of fate, faith, reckoning, and mercy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798823018654

Ronan James Cassidy

Ronan James Cassidy is the award-winning novelist of Margaret Anne and the Redemption series that follows. Mr. Cassidy has spent time living in various regions throughout the United States. His primary field of interest is colonial literature from the Americas, Ireland, Africa, and India. Mr. Cassidy has also spent the last twelve years studying the evolution of the current monetary order. Ronan was inspired to write Margaret Anne and the Redemption series as a loose yet captivating metaphor for his journey towards devoted faithfulness to God and the tearing down of the veils of deceit so rampant in the modern age. His website is https://ronanjamescassidy.com. In addition to his three beautiful daughters, his beautiful girlfriend, his father, his four brothers, and his stepmother, all of Mr. Cassidy’s writings are dedicated to the tireless hours his devoted mother spent living her life as an eternal example of the joys of enduring love and assisting her son with the creation of his published works. Mr. Cassidy’s credentials include a Bachelor’s degree in English from Boston College and a Master’s Degree in Business Administration from Vanderbilt University’s Owen Graduate School of Management. Mr. Cassidy’s first novel, Margaret Anne, which was released in the summer of 2022, has been featured in the US Review of Books and has won the following awards: • Named to the Short List for the 2023 Hawthorne Prize • Winner of the 2023 Firebird Book Award: Religious Fiction • Honorable Mention: 2023 London Book Festival: General Fiction • Finalist: 2023 Montaigne Medal • Nominated for the 2023 Eric Hoffer Award • BookFest Book Awards 2023: 3rd Place: Literary Fiction/Historical • Spring 2023 Reader's Choice Book Awards: Finalist: Best Book for Adults • eLit Awards 2023: Bronze Medalist: Religious Fiction • Winner of the March 2023 Literary Titan Gold Book Award: Historical Fiction • Maincrest Media Book Award 2023: Literary Fiction

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© 2023 Ronan James Cassidy. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 11/30/2023

ISBN: 979-8-8230-1864-7 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-8230-1865-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023923121

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expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the

views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1     Phoenix Rising

Chapter 2     Watchword

Chapter 3     Angels at the Gate

Chapter 4     A Mother’s Love

Chapter 5     The Lion and the Lamb

Chapter 6     The Line of David

Chapter 7     The Janiculum

Chapter 8     The Crucible

Chapter 9     Overture

About the Author

TO: MY DAD

Thank you for the tireless efforts that you always made on our behalf, your steadfast belief in hard work, dedication, and honesty, and your love for all of your boys, your family, and the pretty lady by your side. The seasons of fury and the resounding thunder of the broken pieces of the past have faded in the stillness of the hour. All that remains in their stead is worthy and full of grace. I’m sorry for those things that I never understood back then. Without you, this amazing adventure would have never been possible. All of my love and my hope in what we were always meant to be will remain. That certainty is without question as the light angles its way into the west with the intention of revealing the new things that God is doing in our lives. I will never forget the beautiful moments we have shared. Thank you for everything! I love you always!

TO: MY YOUNGEST BROTHERS

Being a part of watching you two handsome lads become men of integrity, dutiful dedication to our amazing family, and brothers that would make anyone proud has been an amazing gift. I will always cherish the time we have spent together, and I look forward to sharing in all of the wonderful things that you have yet to do. You have been an inspiration to me and many others. I love you both.

TO: MY LINE EDITOR

I can never thank you enough for the tireless work that you have done to help me see this life-changing project through to the end at the times when I needed it most. Thank you for always being a blessing to me, our loving family, and my dad. Heaven knows that none of the stubborn men you graciously accepted responsibility for would have made it far without you. I look forward to the days yet to come, and I will always cherish your selfless determination to make our amazing family the bastion of light and love that it is destined to remain in the years ahead. Please accept my love and gratitude for everything you have done to help me navigate even the worst of life’s storms and for always being there for each and every one of us. You are an amazing woman. There are no words for the beauty of your kindness.

PROLOGUE

There are certain truths manifested in earthly love that are etched into the fabric of our lives, our souls, our spirit. They are indelible pieces of art that tell the very story of who we are. A story made permanent and sung throughout the heavens. These truths are indisputable and beautiful and protected in their innocence and sincerity by the glory of God. This world shall never have them but know they do mark the time we all have shared and are a source of eternal light. We carry the truth of God’s love with us always.

Chapter 1

PHOENIX RISING

O n October 17, 2018, the forty-second Wednesday of that particular annum, or seven years to the day that Mr. Sonneman had first set foot in Blackville, South Carolina, he walked slowly up the stairs and onto the front porch of the old Osment farmstead. The cover of darkness had already settled over that quiet and restful land. The warm and thoughtful smile beaming from his aging and stridently tested, though mellowing, countenance was visible in the soft, yellow burn of the lanterns posted to the square support beams that ran from the base of the porch to the flat wooden roof of that old country-time veranda, a place that he remembered fondly from the days of his initial visit. Just as they had some seven years before, the crickets could be heard rhythmically chirping in the seasonally high grass of the fallow field that bordered the front lawn. The air was cool and crisp and smelled of damp grass and pine straw, which had been stacked near the garden. Everything about the place seemed exactly as it had on that foreboding October night when he had silently slipped away to pay an ill-fated visit to a man he barely knew.

In accordance with their usual routine following the arrival of a visitor, Dixie and Union were serving as both the lookouts and the welcoming committee for the mistress of the enchanting countryside manor. The seasoned retrievers, who were then slightly past their primes and had achieved many well-deserved accolades as accomplished fowl hounds, had been playfully nipping at David’s heels from the moment he had cut the engine and then exited his fuel-efficient sedan, which was rented for the occasion of his unassuming return from exile and brief reunion with the elderly woman who had done what she might to mend his broken heart all those years ago. The playful herding of the ebullient retrievers was, of course, followed by a few welcoming licks to his chops once he bent down to greet his dearly remembered friends. When David reached the top of the stairs, Mr. Clyde Davis and Miss Sonny Alexandra Basseterre were sitting intently in the same rockers that he had come to know when he first ventured up the stairs of that same porch to greet Miss Sonny and Miss Alia back in 2011. The newly arrived and entirely expected visitor continued to approach without receiving any form of acknowledgement from either of the seasoned and somewhat feisty competitors due to the fact that the pair of old friends were finishing up a heated hand of gin rummy.

David laughed silently once he saw the number of picture cards resting in Clyde Davis’s exposed hand. The rather brash old man was holding heavy while attempting to lay down gin before Miss Sonny could get her hand in order. The tension in the air between the two battle-hardened warriors was palpable. The primary reason David had laughed warmly on the inside was that he was certain Miss Sonny knew exactly what old Clyde was up to and, furthermore, because he was also certain that she was near to making Mr. Davis, unsuspecting or otherwise, pay dearly for having the gumption to entertain such a risky strategy.

Because only the pups cared to mark the somewhat sentimental moment of his arrival, David attempted to help out a fellow overmatched member of the male persuasion by teasing Miss Sonny in a way that was certain to get her attention. Well now, what do we have here, two lovers in the night holding some playing cards in an attempt to gloss over the forthright appearance of their shame?

Though she was about to burst at the seams due to her desire to jump up and wrap her arms around David, Miss Sonny never twitched or shifted her eyes to have a look at her long-lost second son. Quickly sensing that he was in a bind, Mr. Clyde Davis happily took the bait in order to relieve the stress he was beginning to feel over making an instantly doomed and woefully overburdened play so late in the match. He called back in reply, What did I go ahead and tell you the last time you was out wandering around these parts, Mr. David? Well, just in case you done forgot, I’ll just go on ahead and tell you now: I said there ain’t a woman alive who has breathed in the sweet scent of our fine Carolina air dat’s gonna be able to keep dem busy hands off of old Clyde Davis for none too long.

Clyde and David both laughed in response to the slippery old codger’s playful ruse. Miss Sonny was having none of it, though even the thought of such talk was normally enough to earn old Clyde or even David a prompt taste of the back of her hand. No sir or ma’am, she remained as focused as a red-tailed hawk circling the tree line for some form of scurrying prey on the tabled cards and the quivering, tattletale eyes of Mr. Davis as she waited patiently for his throw. In fact, upon further inspection, it was as if she were tormenting the crumbling man and almost baiting him to throw each time that he anxiously fingered his way through his ample fan of colorfully adorned face cards. David could read the angst rolling over Clyde’s face clear as day while the hoary would-be Romeo hopelessly tried to remember which card it was that he dared not dispatch. To cut through the tension of the anxiously awaited play, David threw his arms lovingly around Miss Sonny’s shoulders and swayed her gently to and fro in an overwhelming show of affection, which should have revealed her hand to the woefully near-sighted old man.

In response to such an affectionate and downright mischievous show of affection, Miss Sonny was unable to hold out for even a moment longer, no matter how much she may have loathed the prospect of losing to Mr. Clyde at the gin. She placed her cards face down on the table and grabbed hold of David’s arms, which were wrapped around her shoulders, as if she would never let those arms go. She then craned her neck back to get a look at her guest, who had approached from behind her while she was working her cards, and exclaimed excitedly, Let me get a good look at you, my long, lost son! I concocted a suitable serving of your favorite pecan pie and handspun ice cream in the event you were hungry after traveling so far just to come and see me.

David laughed lightheartedly at the suddenly bright-eyed and cheerful old woman while she slowly rose from her rocker. He was somewhat troubled by the fact that her deliberate progression was the direct result of her age. He intended to keep her smiling when he said, I think you mean your favorite, dearest woman.

David scratched his chin to convey the depths of his sarcasm and followed that thought with, Or perhaps Mr. Davis here has begun to take a regular interest in your magnificent confections as well.

With that, Miss Sonny slapped gently at David’s arm in that old, familiar way that she always did before reprimanding him. And don’t you ever forget, my child, that I owe you a great deal more than that.

When she was finished playfully chiding David, Miss Sonny looked down at Mr. Clyde and said, And as for you, Mr. Davis, if I dare use such a distinguishing prefix as that of mister regarding you at all, you had better run along before I pass on what is rightfully coming to you and then stick you with those seventy points that are sitting in your hand for good measure.

David smiled in a wholly self-satisfied manner in response to Miss Sonny’s beautiful zeal. His wide-eyed, almost childlike, yet petulant grin was so blatantly provocative that the gesture readily confirmed that he believed her rebuke of Mr. Clyde had somehow pardoned his impish misdeeds. He quipped delightedly, I have missed you and this place so, pretty lady.

David turned to face Mr. Clyde and said, You have gone and done it now, Mr. Davis. I do believe it to be rude not to keep you around for pie and ice cream, but I’ll run you up the drive in the car if your good sense is aiming to keep you out of the kennel.

Miss Sonny soon chimed in with the last of her rather jocular and somewhat facetious contempt. Don’t you bother waiting on an answer from that old, worn-out empty bucket, David. He’s already gone ahead and eaten half of the pie when I wasn’t looking as it is!

David grinned knowingly and winked at Mr. Clyde, who was working the best that he might to get on up and out of Miss Alia’s rather comfortable rocker. Shortly thereafter, he interjected smartly. Well then, it sounds like time is up, Mr. Davis. You can tell me all about what’s been going out here on the way home.

Clyde moaned while he worked to extricate his diminishing frame from the chair, but he was upright before David could step over to assist him with the endeavor. When Clyde was presentable, he badgered Miss Sonny a bit more with the mandatory intention of defending his manly honor, though he would have preferred to scoot with his hide fully intact. Alright, Mr. David, you’re the distinguished guest of the hour. I’ll do just as you say. Besides, no honorable man would drop gin on such a pretty lady in front of company.

Both Mr. Clyde and David laughed heartily at that rather brazen one-liner. Miss Sonny shook her head in gentle rebuke and shooed the air with her hand in an effort to dispatch the men as she opened up the screen door to enter the house. Before she stepped inside, she called over to the two smugly grinning scoundrels seemingly holding court in front of the small card table. Mr. Davis, you and I both know that you don’t have the gumption to throw anything but that hearted jack. I’ll see you for another game tomorrow night if your incontinence doesn’t kick in. David, your pie and ice cream will be ready for you when you get back if I don’t let the serving slip off of the table and into the mouths of those patiently waiting pups.

With that said, Miss Sonny turned her back on the two grinning scamps, walked into the house, and stepped toward the kitchen. David had decided to bait Mr. Davis since he had favored him over Miss Sonny due to circumstance in their opening encounter of a sort. He shrugged his shoulders and responded as if he were genuinely surprised by the lady of the manor’s reaction when he asked, I wonder what has her knickers in a knot?

Clyde Davis stepped carefully forward and fell right into David’s haphazardly laid trap. You know, it beats me, young man. Women these days be thinkin’ they know it all. They be thinkin’ they are smarter and far more clever than just about any gentleman that be set out upon God’s green earth.

David nodded in acquiescence to Mr. Clyde’s statement in an overly dramatic fashion. He knew that he had the self-proclaimed crooner right where he wanted him. When Mr. Davis deliberately passed by while hoping for nothing more than to keep one good foot working in tandem with the other, David reached down onto the table and turned over the last card that was lying face down in Mr. Clyde’s grotesquely bloated hand. Sure enough, and precisely as Miss Sonny had surmised, the jack of hearts had been revealed.

David murmured loudly and then spoke facetiously when he asked, Hmm, would you look at that? Now, isn’t that something, Mr. Davis?

Mr. Clyde turned his head to glance at the upward-facing card as he continued slowly and purposefully onward towards the stairs of the porch. When he reached the top of those stairs, he responded emphatically and projected a wistful smile as he shook his head somewhat roguishly in response to David’s cleverly delivered insinuation. The Lord above knows I do love that woman, Mr. David. Ain’t another like her anywhere. I do believe our Heavenly Creator done broke the mold after he fashioned that woman in His image. One of these days, I’m going to win something more than a gin game from that magnificent angel of these here Carolinas.

David laughed out loud at the relentless old man and then playfully chided him just a bit more. Well now, Mr. Davis, I do believe that’s the first time I have heard you speak nothing but the truth on this fine evening. Be that as it may, my recommendation would be to start small where it concerns Miss Sonny. Perhaps you should try and win a hand or two before you get the horse all hot and bothered about the journey up the road, if you know what I mean. If you can’t do that in proper fashion, there’s no telling what you might be up against.

Clyde Davis responded thoughtfully, a noticeable inflection of repose tinting his otherwise heavily throated tone. Um, um, um, them there is words for the wise man to live by, Mr. David. Given the lovestruck condition of my heart any time that woman is in my presence, I figure it’s just plain rotten luck that I ain’t never been much of anything more than a hard-knocking field hand.

David smiled amiably and made his way quickly down the stairs, finishing the task just before Mr. Davis. When he had reached the front yard, he replied rather cheerily. You keep at it, Mr. Davis. It’s good to know that you are around and always looking after things. That’s bound to be worth something to a lady who is as sweet and honorable as Miss Sonny is.

No choice in the matter now, Mr. David, Mr. Clyde said as he walked slowly past the garden and took in the perfectly temperate October air on a fine evening in those storied provinces of the Carolina midlands.

David stepped slowly alongside Mr. Davis. He took a deep and invigorating breath, which he held for the duration of a sudden and mesmerizing thought. He exhaled slowly and then spoke quietly, his slow, steady words catching the rather impulsive yet melancholy overture of his mood. Not that I would know much at all about such sentiment, but I do believe that you are right about not having a choice in the matter, Mr. Davis. While I cannot say that I have ever experienced such a feeling as the one you have so eloquently described, there is something that seems almost innate to my own heart as I consider the existence of such unbridled affection and your openness while attesting to the nature of your dilemma.

Old Clyde Davis shook his head in a slightly disapproving manner and spoke flatly in reply. You will, son. Ain’t no man put together by God going to get away clean without the blessings of that torment.

David smiled knowingly at the wise old man, though his openly revealed preference for basking in the afterglow of such a heartwarming thought was not easily deciphered by his visually challenged companion. They had ventured away from the porch lamps and into the nocturnal obscurity of a moonless evening. After they ambled a few steps more, David conveyed a rather expectant thought. I hope you speak the truth in that regard, Mr. Davis. I am not even sure why, but I hope that you speak the truth just the same.

Clyde Davis continued to walk on. His slow and careful gait remained uninterrupted by his willful thoughts. He was a bit perplexed by the luckless love life of his infinitely capable and rather handsome young escort. He responded plainly to David’s hopeful attestation. I can promise you as much as that, son. Even if the feeling only arrives after you done realized something you missed before, at a time in your life when you is just about out of runway and there ain’t no new roads left to travel.

David nodded in the affirmative. Mr. Davis’s remarks had caused his mind to be held captive by the myriad complexities of his inexperienced, and perhaps even shallow, thoughts on matters of romance. He had reached that tender juncture just as the two gentlemen were approaching his car, which was parked alone on the cool, lively grass of the perfectly manicured lawn of the side yard, a perfectly manicured lawn that was the direct result of Mr. Clyde Davis’s meticulous care and dedicated love for the lady who was responsible for overseeing the idle years of the old Osment farmstead.

David returned to the farmhouse about fifteen minutes later, right after he had made certain that Mr. Davis was safely at home for the evening. Miss Sonny was seated contentedly at the kitchen table with a plate full of pecan pie that was smothered in sweet, warming vanilla bean ice cream in front of her. Though their time together would be short and, to a loose and informally enforced degree, withheld from the now vigilant citizens of the small rural town of Blackville, Sonny was overjoyed that David had finally made his way back to her after seven long and sometimes trying years. Moreover, the wise and devout woman of God was teeming with emotion, which radiated visibly from her naturally aged yet still rather captivating visage. The wellspring of her glowing mien was her manifest expectation of what that chosen man’s return would one day signify for her earthbound host of devoted adherents, and more so for the sons and daughters whose names had been written in the ancient ledger that tracked the known descendants of Miss Jeanne Jolie Basseterre and the illegitimate descendants of Mr. Edward Christopher Calhoun.

Across the table from Miss Sonny rested another plate of the Osment family’s humble collection of utterly pedestrian yet cherished early twentieth-century China, which was also loaded with pie and a molten mound of sugared cream that appeared identical to her own. Next to that plate rested a golden necklace with a radiant golden cross that was eternally fastened to a thick yet elegantly woven chain of an ancient fabrication. The cross was shimmering low and soft as it caught the warmth of the covered light that was lingering beneath the low-hanging overhead lamps and striking the pendant from varying angles. The screen door closed behind David with a dull but clamorous and somewhat muffled pop after the wood of the door struck the jamb. The entirely anticipated commotion got the attention of the maudlin-eyed yet spiritually aglow woman, who was staring into the undefined space beyond the light of the fixture that hung from the ceiling directly above the kitchen table. David stepped forward as a man who was intent on finally greeting his lovely hostess in a proper manner.

When David had arrived in the old-time country buttery after venturing away from the front door, the neutral but somewhat expectant look that had rested upon his face was immediately painted over with the bright decorum of a radiant smile. He had taken a good long look at Miss Sonny and then spied the contents that were set out for him on the kitchen table. When Miss Sonny finally broke free of her bedazzling ruminations of the moment, she turned her head to survey her late-arriving guest. She could see the shine of delight in David’s warm and welcoming eyes once he caught sight of his intentionally overlooked gift.

She spoke plaintively to David without rising from her chair after she picked up her sterling silver fork to sample a bite of the still-warm pie. When you said that you would be back, my second son, I did not think that it would be all these years later. Who sneaks out like a thief in the middle of the night on an old and restful woman in the aftermath of the affairs of such a long and trying day?

David bowed his head apologetically before the comely yet mildly distressed woman, who, some seven years after his first endearing encounter with her, had finally begun to reveal the telltale signs of her advancing age. He responded in a penitent yet affectionate tone. No proper gentleman that I know of would do such a thing, ma’am. I can assure you of that. I presume there is a good reason why such behavior is rightfully associated with only scoundrels and derelicts. I have spent seven long years in the wilderness. I have seen and done things that we will never speak of in this lifetime. Yet through it all, I remained haunted only by those things that were done and revealed during the depths of my trials on that menacing evening. But I have returned to you now, just as I had always intended, in the hopes that I have finally given the devil his due.

Miss Sonny put her fork back down on the table without taking a bite of her pie and rose slowly from her old wooden chair. When she had reached the fullness of her somewhat bent and withering height, she opened her arms and implored David forward with her thin but sturdy hand. She spoke with a soothing tone. Come to me, my hurting but still unbroken child of the light. You have endured the throes of your transgressions, as we all must. Your torments, which were born of the dizzying spells of discord and malice that belonged to your darker days, must be left behind. We are approaching the appointed time of great healing among God’s people, and I just know that you are going to do something wonderful for us all. Something that will overshadow even the worst of your misdeeds and live on forever in our hearts.

David stepped forward, and she said, God is preparing to walk again among us. He is present everywhere in this quiet land of our people, which continues to yield its bounty in the slow time of the thankful heart. It is nearly time for you to pass the golden cross to the one who has been appointed to bear witness to the moment of your surrender, which will free our downtrodden kin and allow the angel ascending to reunite with those long-troubled spirits of the west wind. Still and all, my heart breaks due to the unimaginable suffering that you have endured.

David raised his eyes intently to rediscover the innumerable blessings that were the embodiment of the woman standing before him. He stepped into her frail, loving arms and held her tight as the tears of his unending remorse, which were seven long years in the making, ran down his flushed cheeks. After a few minutes, the wells of his eyes ran dry. He stood up straight and stepped back to have a better look at the eternal guardian of his darkened heart.

Miss Sonny smiled at David in the expectant manner of someone who was still saddened by the circumstances that surrounded their moment of a fateful reckoning of sorts. She spoke gently and kept her tenderly displayed eyes held fast to David’s own. Let me tell you a short story, my child. I feel that my own experiences dealing with such things will serve as an appropriate illustration to help you navigate your way through the worst of life’s trying nuances, given the unpleasant yet hopeful nature of our present situation.

David nodded respectfully and answered by saying, While I was away, I placed a great deal of hope in your unwavering yet reverently gentle light, ma’am. You are the only person who has ever convinced me that the blessings of redemption are far superior to the venom of retribution, even if I lost sight of that budding belief when it mattered most. If I had only heeded your plea on that afternoon some seven years ago, an afternoon that shone so brightly before something lurking in the dark heart of nightfall found what it had been searching for all along.

Miss Sonny waved David off purposefully with her frail hand and spoke sternly in an effort to redirect his thoughts. Hush now, my child. Sit down and listen to what I am about to tell you.

David nodded in acquiescence to her command and made his way over to his seat at the far side of the kitchen table. Shortly thereafter, Miss Sonny returned to her seat. She closed her eyes for a moment to think back on a troubling time in her life from long ago, and then she began her tale without prologue or portent. On the day that my sweet boy Nouri passed on from this world, I was trapped at work in the prison where I met and spent time with your father in the weeks before he was released. The facility had been placed on lockdown due to a riot that had broken out without warning that afternoon. It was the winter of 1982, and the holidays were on everyone’s mind prior to the terrifying sound of the warning sirens.

When she opened her eyes and saw that David was listening intently, she continued. The night I will speak of was December 12th. As you know, your father had been released from prison more than five years prior to that tumultuous evening. A light but uninterrupted and seemingly magical snowfall was dusting the vacated yard that we could see from the infirmary windows. About fifteen minutes after the sirens went off, we oftentimes overburdened and dedicated few who worked in the ward were caught in the midst of a violent uprising. While I was discovering that the participants on both sides of the conflict were behaving in a similar fashion, despite the wildly divergent nature of their lives, the tensions that had been mounting well into the evening reached a boiling point.

Miss Sonny paused to gather her thoughts, but David simply continued to watch her closely and listen intently. When she had her recollections properly ordered, she said, About the time that it became clear we wouldn’t be allowed to return home that evening, I spoke to Miss Alia on the phone. On that call, my momma warned me that Nouri was not responding well to finding out that I would not be coming home to read to him before bedtime. To make matters worse, Nouri’s overall physical condition, which was never stable for very long, had been deteriorating for months.

That night, I begged and pleaded with anyone who would listen. There were times that I begged those prison guards while wailing, and others when my screams were most certainly hard to bear. I begged them to send me home for the sake of my boy, but they refused to open the ward. They were too afraid that opening up the hallway to the infirmary would allow some prisoners to escape or put us in harm’s way. To add to the confusion and the depths of my helplessness, the warden, whom you met the morning of Miss Alia’s services, was somewhere down in Florida and had not yet returned to oversee the situation. I was entirely beside myself, David. I begged and I cried all night and all morning until they let us out at around noon the following day, after the situation had settled out some. I am certain that my carrying on made the incident more than a living nightmare for my coworkers, but through it all, they tried in vain to console me.

A look of deep distress came over David’s face. His words jumped from his tongue before he could contain them in the name of mercy or the decency of restraint. You don’t mean to tell me that Nouri passed away on the only occasion you were unable to return home to him, ma’am? Tell me that, or something far worse, simply isn’t true! Please tell me that such an awful thing can’t be true. I am certain that he was at home waiting for you and terrified by your absence. That much I know.

Sensing the depths of her guest’s distress, which were surely tied to some unresolved moment of neglect that involved his mother, Miss Sonny reached across the table, took hold of David’s warm, soft hand, and shook her head tenderly. I promised some time ago to speak only of the truth, my child, but do not allow your repressed feelings of yesteryear to cause you to miss the nature of my intent.

David nodded in return but remained silent. Though he was visibly shaken by what Miss Sonny had revealed to him, his prior outburst had been highly unusual for a man who was so easily detached from the pangs of emotional distress. Miss Sonny paused for another brief, yet eternal, moment in the anxiously awaiting mind of her guest to gather her thoughts and settle her emotions before waxing nostalgically. She spoke as if she were living within the bewitching auspices and disturbing confluence of events that had marred that awful day that her Nouri had died.

She provided some needed clarity that was meant to address David’s concerns. I thought so at first, my child. I thought Nouri may have stopped fighting because he felt abandoned in his time of suffering, but God showed me otherwise. In His own time, God showed me something merciful and something wonderful at the very moment I could bear no more. He showed me that Nouri was a lion trapped inside the deadened body of a lamb. He did so in much the same way he showed me Evans Shafe was nothing more than an abused lamb attempting to masquerade as a lion because he figured that appearing vicious might finally put an end to his suffering.

A tear had fallen from the eyes of both of the heartbroken participants of that soulful rendezvous when Miss Sonny said, The Lord showed me that it was simply time for Nouri to move on from the hardships he faced in this world and that his last story was read to him while he remained perched on the knee of our Risen Savior. I went from feeling devastated to blessed and overjoyed faster than a jackrabbit on a hot date. I was amazed by God’s glory on that day, my child.

David asked, Why do you think God showed you those things when such comforting blessings never arrive for many others in this life, Miss Sonny? Why did God choose you over some mother who may never learn where her little girl was taken while she slept?

To which Miss Sonny joyfully replied, Because my faith is unshakeable and because I asked Jesus to heal the shattered places in my broken heart, David. God answers the prayers of his faithful followers in His own time. He most certainly answered mine. I cannot speak to the hearts or beliefs of others who have endured losing something that is precious beyond the bounds of human understanding, but I give thanks for every second I was allowed to spend with my beautiful boy. I also give thanks and praise to God that He was able to guide that sweet child home to Him while I was held up.

David closed his eyes and lifted his chin to the ceiling before asking, Why did you mention Mr. Shafe while considering your precious boy, ma’am?

Miss Sonny reached over the table, squeezed David’s almost lifeless hand, and answered him candidly. Because, my child, I know that for you to have stayed here that night and done nothing, given what you rightly or wrongly presumed about the true nature of Evans Shafe and, perhaps, human nature in the realms where Mr. Shafe conducted his affairs, would have caused you to feel much the same way that I did while I waited in vain to return to Nouri before he began his journey beyond this life. I also mention Mr. Shafe so that you might gain some clarity on precisely what happened in the hours before you were sent into exile and forced to roam the wilderness. Does that answer your question well enough?

Realizing that she was offering up a bit of tough love, David asked, What sort of clarity might that be, ma’am?

Miss Sonny spoke persuasively. Listen to me carefully, David. When two men who are not meant to behave as the lion does are prowling within the same grass of the open savannah, only one is likely to survive the encounter. That is because of their fear that their true nature might be discovered if they remain docile in the presence of a challenge. While I suspect that your encounter with Mr. Shafe did not occur by chance, nature also has her way of sorting things out.

David remained uncharacteristically befuddled by Miss Sonny’s response. He delivered a testily asked question. We have no time for riddles, my dear woman; tell me what it is that you mean to convey.

Miss Sonny looked deep into David’s eyes and spoke sternly. What I mean, my insolent child, is that each of us is born into our God-given gifts. We will only know peace and harmony with God’s creation when we act accordingly. I dread speaking those words to someone as dear to me as you are, but sadly, you are to interpret those words as you must. I am not permitted to think for you, nor do I intend to take a solitary step in your always impeccable shoes.

When David turned his eyes on her without speaking a word, she said, The gift of the lion is the courage to fight ferociously and lay down its’ life for his pride at the very moment all seems lost. The gift of the lamb is to offer up its’ body for the good of the flock, though that lamb knows it will never share in those same gifts that are the fruits of such sacrifice, my dear, sweet child. What I mean to tell you is that God has always intended for you to give abundantly from the rare and exacting gifts that He has given you. They will serve a glorious purpose one day, but only if you understand the essence of your own sacrifice.

Being a man who was accustomed to speaking in euphemisms when an unfortunate soul was nearing his end, David understood her meaning if not her harsh temperament, though he should have after what he had done back in 2011. Miss Sonny said, Wickedness and sin force us to behave like something that we are not. They also trick us into thinking the world is something it is not. Yet, I suspect that deep within your heart, you already know that, and so much more, to be true. I suspect that you already know which of God’s beasts you are meant to honor. Perhaps you were sent away for so long because that was precisely what you needed to learn.

David was a bit irritated by her direct and somewhat derogatory approach. He had been hoping for the far kinder and gentler woman he remembered, but he understood that neither of them was in a position that would allow her to make the same mistake in dealing with him twice. Having directly surveyed what David was capable of doing to another human after being set off had allowed the usually tender-hearted woman to take a far more direct approach. That being said, she had reached the brighter side of her sermon when she said, They have abused you without relent and tried to deform your heart until it became something it is not, my child. Though you have faltered in the face of enough misery to destroy the spirit of a thousand ordinary men, you have not fallen. Now, you are now gathering strength and will soon be reborn from the ashes of your former misery.

David gently squeezed Miss Sonny’s timeworn and delicate hand before offering his restrained and thoughtful response. How did I ever doubt such a wise and profound woman of God? In an effort to comfort you before we discuss what needs to be done, I must tell you that I have learned to accept the wisdom and truth of your words. Though my deeds remained less than commendable while I was away in that brutal land, I did not spend those seven years in the wilderness without making peace with God or endeavoring to understand exactly what may be required of me.

Miss Sonny smiled at David and replied warmly. That is good to hear, my child. I suspect that your rash behavior has narrowed the options that remain available to us. The thought that continued to haunt me once Mr. Tullis arrived to share the news about what had happened to Mr. Shafe was that you might not understand the consequences of what you had done.

After saying that, Miss Sonny stood up slowly and walked over to the side of the table where David sat. She rested her hand on his shoulder for a moment before reaching down and picking up the golden cross that was prominently displayed beside his dessert plate. David watched her carefully as the length of the chain straightened and the ancient medallion bound to that chain dangled in the open air. The cross glistened in the glow of the low, simmering yellow light that was drifting down from the fixture above the table.

Miss Sonny returned her eyes to David while she caressed the soft, weighty, and precisely crafted gold in her right hand. She then turned David’s chin toward her eyes as she stood before him and proclaimed, I place upon you this holy relic that will help you sing the song of your redemption. I believe you will require its’ blessing when you approach the moment when your sweet song, the one that remains uncorrupted and unblemished by the workings of evil men, will finally be sung to our loving Creator of both the heavens and the earth.

David said nothing. He simply bowed his head before Miss Sonny as she gently placed the cross of gold around his exposed neck. When he raised his head and felt the revitalizing chill of the metal of the crucifix on the skin of his chest, he said, I hope that the words of such a song were within me all the while.

Miss Sonny smiled warmly at David. The gesture was a perfect match for the