The Glorious Prodigal Page 20
****
“Mistah Stuart!”
Stuart turned quickly and saw a big figure appear. “Why, Merle,” he said, “it’s you!”
“I seen you come in, Mistah Stuart.” Merle came forward and put his hand out. “I’m glad to see you back. Welcome home.”
Stuart took Merle’s hard hand and felt a moment’s grace. The scene with Leah had shaken him considerably, and only by a tremendous iron will had he kept from showing her what was in his heart. “I won’t be staying, Merle, but I thank you for your welcome.”
Merle did not answer for a moment. He was a wise man, and something he saw in Stuart’s face kept him from asking questions. “Well, that’s as may be, but you comin’ in tonight. You can sleep in Wash’s bed in the children’s room. He done married up now.”
Stuart would have protested, but Merle grabbed his arm and practically dragged him down the road to the small house where he still lived with Annie. As the two men went in, Annie was standing at the sink cleaning up. When she turned to him, her eyes narrowed at once, and her lips went together in a fine line.
Merle saw his wife’s coolness, as did Stuart. “Mistah Stuart’s gonna sleep in Wash’s bed tonight, then he’ll be goin’ on.”
“All right,” Annie said briefly. “You need somethin’ to eat?”
“Already eaten, Annie. Thank you. Coffee would be good, though.”
“Sit down, Mistah Stuart.”
Stuart found his legs were not steady. He could not remember a time when he was so shaken. He had known that Leah would not welcome him back, but the coldness of his wife’s voice and what seemed to be hatred in her eyes had been like taking a bullet in the heart. He sat down, barely aware of his surroundings, but as he drank the coffee, he listened as Merle kept the conversation going. Merle told him about the farm, the animals, and the breeding program.
Finally Merle seemed to run down, and Stuart looked up at Annie, who was watching him steadily. “You don’t have to worry, Annie. I won’t be staying.”
“What do you mean, Mistah Stuart?” she demanded.
“You hate me for what I did to my wife and family, but they won’t be hurt anymore. Not by me.” He stood up suddenly and turned to face her squarely. “I’d like to ask your forgiveness, Annie, and you, too, Merle, for all the things I did to you.”
“You ain’t done nothin’ to me, Mistah Stuart!” Merle protested.
Annie said nothing for a moment, and then she nodded. “You won’t be stayin’?”
“I just came back to ask for forgiveness. If you don’t mind, I think I’d like to lie down.”
“Sure, Mistah Stuart. Come on. I’ll get you fixed up.”
Annie sat down at the table and waited until Merle came back. When he sat down beside her, she said, “What happened?”
“I ’spect Miss Leah asked him to leave.”
The two sat there, struck by the tragedy of it. Finally Merle said, “He’s different now, ain’t he?”
“He may be,” Annie said. And then the bitterness that filled her heart came out, for she loved Leah and hated Stuart for what he had done to her. “A man reaps what he sows, and that’s all there is to it.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I’ve Always Loved Him!”
A pale sun had risen in the east, shedding its beams but yielding no warmth. As Stuart trudged along the icy roads, he could not keep his mind free from thoughts of his wife and children. It was not what he had anticipated during the long years in prison, especially the last four. He had assumed that he would come home, ask for forgiveness, and then set about to prove himself a good husband and a good father. The coldness of the day seemed to match the condition of his heart, for despite his gratitude for being out of prison, he was still plagued with the question of what he would do with his life.
The sound of an automobile caught his attention, and he looked up to see a light blue car with white wheels and a canvas top shielding the driver. The car slammed to a stop, and a man jumped out and turned toward him.
“Well, you old codger!” The driver leaped at Stuart, wrapped him in a bear hug, and waltzed around.
“Hey!” Stuart cried. “What are you doing out here?”
Ace released Stuart and stepped back with a broad grin on his homely face. “I heard you were home. Sam Pickens has spread the word. I think everybody in the county knows about it by now.”
“You could always depend on Sam to spread bad news.”
“Bad news! None of that now. Hey, come on and get in.”
“What kind of a car is this?” Stuart asked as he walked around to open the door.
“It’s a Willis Knight. Just got it. Some pumpkins, huh?”
“You must be doin’ pretty well to buy a new car like this.”
“The surveyin’ business is good. I’ve got three guys workin’ for me now.” As the car picked up speed, Ace turned and grinned at Stuart, saying, “You look good, man. When did you get in?”
“Just yesterday.”
“Well, I’ve got all kinds of plans made for us. I see you still got your fiddle. We can do some fancy playin’.”
Stuart hesitated for a long moment, then said, “I don’t think I need to do much playing at dances. I’m out of the habit. We didn’t do much dancing at Tucker.”
“Well, nothin’ wrong with gettin’ some of the boys together and just havin’ a little hoedown, is there? We can get Clyde and Ralph and Fatso any day.”
“That would be good. Be glad to see the fellas. I guess they’re all married and settled down now.”
“Pretty much. Where you headed? I’ll take you there.”
“Going to my folks’ house.”
“I want to see your mom’s face when she sees you.” Ace nodded. “She’s had everybody in the county prayin’ for you.” He hesitated, then said, “How did it go with Leah?”
Stuart turned and gave Ace a glance. “Not too well,” he said finally. “I won’t be staying there.”
The car bumped over the rough road, slid on icy spots toward the edge, and Ace wrestled it back to the center. “One of these days we’re going to get some of them paved roads out here.” Not knowing what else to say, he murmured, “Well, Leah will come around. She’s had a hard time. But how about those kids of yours? Aren’t they somethin’?”
“I wouldn’t have known Raimey, I don’t think. He’s gotten so tall.”
“I’ll bet he was glad to see you.”
“No. He really wasn’t, Ace. Merry was, but she’s still just a baby really. All those years I missed, Ace . . .”
Stuart’s voice choked at the thought of so much of his life wasted, and the men fell into an uncomfortable moment of silence. The conversation was difficult for Ace. He had known about the problems with Leah and had talked with Raimey enough to know that the boy seemed dead set against his father. Ace said quickly, “Well, I’ll tell you what. You can stay with us. We can make room.”
“I can’t do that, Ace. I’ll find a place.”
“All right, if you say so, but one thing. If you want work, I’ve got that. I need a chain man. Not much money, but you and me could have some time together.”
“I’ll take you up on that.”
Ace talked rapidly as he sped along the road, trying to be as cheerful as he could, but he was thinking, Something’s gone out of Stuart. He’s not what he was. I’m afraid gettin’ out of jail might be as big a shock as going into it.
When he pulled up in front of the Winslow house, Stuart said, “I’ll be ready to go to work tomorrow.”
Ace fumbled in his pocket and came out with a wad of bills. Unfolding two of them, he said, “Here, you can’t work in that outfit. Get yourself some stout boots and whatever else you need.”
Stuart took the money and smiled. “Good to see you again, Ace. I thought about you a lot. As a matter of fact, some of the best memories I had were of you.”
“Here, too, partner. Uh-oh, look out!”
Stuart turned to see his
mother, who had opened the door and was flying down the walk. He turned to meet her and caught her up, clearing her feet from the ground and squeezing her. “Hello, Mom,” he said huskily.
Diane clung to him, unable to speak for a time. She finally got control of herself, and when he put her down, she said, “Come on inside. It’s cold.” Turning to Ace, she said, “Come in, Ace.”
“No. I’ve got to be getting along. Take care of this guy. He’s gonna work for me, and I don’t want anything but good men.”
The car roared off, and Diane clung to Stuart’s arm as the two went inside the house. “Come into the kitchen. I’ll fix you some pancakes.”
“I thought about your pancakes for a long time, Mom,” Stuart said. He took a seat, and she fixed him a cup of coffee while she scurried around nervously throwing pancakes together. “Your father will be down soon. I’ll make enough for all of us.”
“Tell me about yourself, Mom. How are you?”
“Me? Why, I’m fine.” She looked up from the mixing bowl long enough to study his face. “You look good, son,” she said. “I was afraid—”
“I know. You were afraid I’d come out a skeleton.”
Stuart had pulled off his cap and removed his coat on the way in, and now as he sat there, his mother saw that he did have a healthy look. His hair was as black as ever, his skin was tanned, and though he was thinner in some ways, he seemed very strong. “You did a lot of outdoor work at the—” She could not say the word and changed her expression. “For the last few years?”
“Yes. I did some janitorial work, too, but I liked being outside best. It was good for me.”
The pancakes were just finished when they both turned to see Richard, who had entered the kitchen. He gave Stuart a quick look and nodded. “I heard voices. Good to see you, Stuart.”
Stuart waited for his father to come across the room to shake hands, for he had hoped for a better welcome from him, but there was something very reserved in Richard Winslow’s demeanor. “It’s good to be home, Dad. You’re looking well.”
“So are you.”
“Well, the two of you sit down. The pancakes are ready.”
They moved into the dining room, and Diane set the table with pancakes, sausage, and a large pitcher of maple syrup. “I’ve got some of that sorghum you like so well, Stuart.”
“I’ll have some of that, Mom.”
When the food was on the table, Richard bowed his head and said, “Lord, we thank you for this food and for every blessing.” He hesitated, as though he would have said more but then cut the prayer off. “In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
“Here, eat all you can, son,” Diane said, piling three plate-size pancakes on Stuart’s plate.
“Mom, I can’t eat all those!” Stuart protested.
“You eat all you can,” she repeated.
Stuart cut the pancakes up and poured sorghum all over them, and at his first bite, he exclaimed, “Just like always! You’re the best pancake maker in the world.”
The meal was awkward and difficult for Stuart. Diane did almost all of the talking, with Stuart adding what he could. Since he had no news of his own to give, he mostly listened as his mother told him what had happened in the years that he had been gone. They had received a letter just that morning from Warden Armstrong, explaining about Stuart’s release and with deepest apologies for the problems that had occurred with Munger. The warden had high praises for Stuart—for how far he had come in his time there—and high praises for God for the transforming work He had done in this man’s life. For Diane, it was an answer to all her prayers to finally know that her son had not turned his back on them after all. She was torn between deep grief over all that had happened to separate them and joy over their reunion this momentous day.
Finally the meal was over, and Stuart sat back and held his hand up. “No more, Mom. I can’t eat another bite. You’re still the best cook in the world.”
Richard had said little, but now he made an effort at small talk. “Well, we reelected Woodrow Wilson last month.”
“Yes, and I’m so glad,” Diane chimed in. “He’s kept us out of the war in Europe, and I hope he continues to do so. At least that’s what he campaigned on.”
“I don’t think he’ll keep us out of it very long,” Richard said solemnly. He looked over at Stuart, and after a moment’s silence, he said, “What are your plans now, Stuart?”
Stuart met his father’s eyes. He saw little welcome there, and when he spoke, his voice was very quiet. “I won’t be staying at home,” he said. “Leah would rather I go someplace else.”
His parents exchanged a quick glance, and it was Diane who said quickly, “It’ll work out, son. You’ll just have to give her a little time.”
“I’ll be working for Ace surveying for a little while until I get some money together. Then I expect I’ll move on.”
“But, son, you can’t do that. Where would you go?”
“I don’t know, Mom.” Stuart straightened up and looked into his father’s eyes. “I hear that Leah is seeing another man and thinking about a divorce. I don’t have any right to stop her if that’s what she wants to do. But I had to come back and ask her forgiveness—and yours.” Taking a deep breath, he said, “I was the world’s worst son, I think. There was no reason for it. You were always good parents to me, so what’s happened in my life is none of your fault. Never blame yourself for it. I do ask you to forgive me, Dad, and you, too, Mom.”
Diane waited for Richard to speak, and when she saw that he was having difficulty, she at once got up and went around the table. Stuart rose and she put her arms around him. “Of course we do, son.”
“Thank you, Mom. I never doubted that.”
Richard said stiffly, “I’m glad you’re out, Stuart. Let me know if I can do anything to help you.” He did not mention forgiveness, and there was something foreboding about his tone.
“I’ll do that. Well, I’d better get going. I have some things to do.”
Diane went with him to the door and kissed him. “Give Leah and your father time,” she said. “They’ll come around.”
“I thought about you every day, Mom. I know you prayed for me. Keep it up.”
Diane watched him leave, and her heart seemed to break. She closed the door gently and then went back and stood for a moment at the window watching him go. Richard came over to stand beside her.
“I was disappointed that you didn’t give Stuart a little more consideration, Richard.”
“He’s got to prove himself, Diane. This is an old pattern. Don’t you remember?” Richard turned her around. His face was lined, and the years of shame of having a convict for a son disturbed him. It had eaten away at him, and he could not seem to find it in his heart to do other than he had. “He would always get in trouble and then come and confess. We’d forgive him, and then for a while he’d behave. And then he’d go back and do the same thing again. He’s got to prove himself, Diane. I’d like to believe what Warden Armstrong has told us—nobody would like to see him change his life more than I would—but I’ll have to see it for myself to believe it.”
“Richard, I’m disappointed in you.”
Richard Winslow’s face revealed shock. He loved this woman and always wanted her approval. “What is it, Diane?”
“In the Scriptures, when the Prodigal Son came home, his father ran to greet him. When the son confessed he’d done wrong, he brought him to the house and put a ring on his finger and killed the fatted calf.”
Richard Winslow dropped his head. The truth of his wife’s words hurt, but the years of shame had marked him strongly. He muttered, “You may be right, Diane, but I’ve got to see honest change in him before I can do that.”
****
Leah was listening to Merry as she read out of her reader. She did not read like a child, one halting word at a time, but fluently, and Leah thought, She’s so smart.
When Merry was through reading, she looked up smiling and said, “Was that good, Mom?”<
br />
“Very good, Merry. You’re a fine reader. Much better than I was at your age.”
Merry closed the book and then stood up and came to stand beside her mother. “Mom, is Daddy coming to live with us?”
It was the question that Leah had dreaded. A week had passed since Stuart had appeared at the house, and during that time, Merry had said nothing about her father, nor had Raimey. Now she glanced quickly across to where Raimey was sitting in the light of the window working on a model ship that he had been building for some time. Something in his eyes troubled her, and she knew that he was waiting for her answer, as well.
“No. I don’t think so.”
“Why not, Mama?”
“I’m glad he’s not coming here,” Raimey said defiantly. “I don’t want him here!”
“Why not?” Merry said, turning to face Raimey.
“Because he’s nothing but an old jailbird!”
Leah was shocked to the bone at the hard edge of Raimey’s voice and at the adamant glare in his eyes. Usually he was a gentle boy, and this cold fury shook her. “You mustn’t say that, son.”
“You don’t want him here, Mom, do you? You sent him away.”
Leah had tried to think of some way to explain the situation to her children, but now even as she spoke, her words sounded false and hollow. “Sometimes a man and a woman have difficulty. They start out loving each other, but then things happen.” The more she tried to talk, the harder it got, and Leah found herself groping for words. “And that’s what happened to your father and me. He’s done things that have hurt us all, and so we think it’s best that he not live here.”
A silence filled the room, and then Merry said in a small voice, “Mama, if I do something wrong, will you not love me anymore like you don’t love Daddy?”
The words cut Leah to the heart. She suddenly threw her arms around Merry and hugged her tightly. Tears rose in her eyes, and she blinked them away. “Don’t even say that, honey,” she said. “I’ll always love you.” Unable to continue, she got up and left the room.