Gabriel's Discovery

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“You miss him?”

She glanced up at Gabriel. “Not the way you think.” And because that sounded so cold, she added, “Our marriage was over long before he died. He’d been on a path toward destruction for a while, a long while. His death, like so many others, was a direct result of readily available drugs on the street. But if it hadn’t been cocaine, he’d have found some other way to self-destruct. Reggie was just like that.”

She walked up the steps leading to the porch at the house and tucked three of the brochures in the mail slot on the front door.

“It doesn’t look like anyone lives here,” Gabriel observed.

The house had the stillness of decay and neglect that said it had been abandoned for some time. Dead leaves, spiderwebs and debris including potato chip bags and mangled beer cans jammed the corners, mixing with peeling paint chips.

“You’d be surprised, Reverend,” Susan said.

She bent to the mail slot and hollered through. “Hello to the house. I dropped some information about Galilee Women’s Shelter in your front door.”

When she turned to go, Gabriel paused.

“What’s wrong?” Susan asked him.

“I thought I heard something.”

As if she were guiding along one of the twins, Susan took his hand. “Come on. You probably did. People coming to see what I put in there.”

Gabriel remained silent as they descended the steps and continued their walk. But he looked back at the house.

“Is there a lot of that?” he eventually asked.

“A lot of what?”

“People living in abandoned homes?”

“In certain parts of the city, yes.”

“And this is one of those parts.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Welcome to the hidden and forgotten underside of Colorado Springs. This would be the part not in the tourism brochures.”

A couple of people sitting on a stoop called out to Susan. She waved, then spotted one of the pillars of the neighborhood sitting on her front porch. Susan motioned for Gabriel to follow. They stepped carefully around an area of buckled sidewalk.

“How are things with you, Mrs. Turner?” Susan called in greeting.

The frail-looking woman sat on a plaid sofa that had seen better days, but looked as comfortable as the woman holding court. “’Bout as well as can be expected for an eighty-year-old blind lady.”

Susan smiled. “You may not have your sight, but you know everything that happens on this block.”

“That’s the truth,” the woman said. “Who you have with you today?”

Gabriel looked startled.

Mrs. Turner smiled. “My eyes don’t work, son. There’s nothing wrong with my nose and my ears. You smell good. Come on up here. This your beau, Susan?”

She blushed, not that Mrs. Turner could see it, but Susan had a feeling the elderly woman knew anyway. She quickly made the introductions. “Nothing like that. This is Reverend Gabriel Dawson, the new pastor at Good Shepherd. Reverend, this is Mrs. Mattie Turner.”

“A preacher, huh?” Mrs. Turner said. “That’s a lot better than what you had before, God rest his soul.” She turned unseeing eyes toward Gabriel. “I used to go to Good Shepherd. It’s nice meeting you, Reverend.”

Gabriel took her hands in his. Contrary to her appearance, Mrs. Turner’s grip was strong and sure. Susan got a kick out of again seeing his surprise.

“Well, you’re a tall one, aren’t you.”

“Yes, ma’am. Six foot three. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too. You said you used to be a member of Good Shepherd. I’d like to invite you back. We have some innovative programs for members of all ages. I think you might enjoy it.”

“He’s a charmer, isn’t he,” Mrs. Turner said to Susan.

She agreed, but had no intention whatsoever of admitting that. Susan made a noncommittal sound.

“I’ll think about it,” the elderly woman said. “Don’t get around as well as I used to.”

She invited them to sit, then she started telling them about her “great-grands.”

There was no point in rushing Mrs. Turner. When she had a point to make, she made it—even if it took an hour or all day. Susan settled into one of the straight-back kitchen chairs that had been hauled to the porch for the sole purpose of this kind of entertaining.

In addition to squiring the handsome preacher around the neighborhood, Susan’s walk had another purpose. By knocking on doors, she hoped to find the twins’ classmate’s house. Hannah and Sarah thought Jasmine lived in this block, but they weren’t sure. Jasmine, the girls said, wasn’t allowed to have company.

Susan had in her pocket an invitation to a tea party. Granted, there’d been no tea party actually scheduled, but it would be easy to round up a few little girls for an outing. With the twins and Jessica’s daughter Amy, they’d have a full complement. But before she could invite Jasmine and her mother to a fact-finding tea, she had to find them, period.

And if anyone existed in this neighborhood who knew everyone, it was Mrs. Mattie Turner.

“So, what are you two out doing today?” the elderly woman finally asked.

“Mrs. Carter is showing me the neighborhood.”

Mrs. Turner chuckled. “Trolling for lost souls on both ends now, huh?”

Gabriel smiled. “Something like that.”

“How has your hip been doing?” Susan asked.

“Supposed to be just like new,” Mrs. Turner said. “Those doctors just gave me a tune-up and said I’m good for another one hundred thousand miles.”

Susan turned to Gabriel. “You wouldn’t know it to see her moving down the street, but Mrs. Turner had hip replacement surgery a while ago.”

“Slowed me down, it did,” Mrs. Turner said.

They all chatted for a few more minutes about the weather and how Gabriel was getting along at Good Shepherd. Then, when she couldn’t think of a way to finesse her question into the conversation, Susan figured she’d just blurt it out. “While we’re out, I’m trying to find Jasmine Shaw. She’s in the girls’ class and I have an invitation for her. But we’re not sure about the address. Hannah and Sarah think she lives somewhere around here.”

“Shaw?” Mrs. Turner said, stroking her arm. “Shaw. Let me see. Well, years ago, there used to be a Shaw family lived around the block, over on Madison in the first block. But I think they’re all gone now.”

Susan tried to hide her disappointment.

“But wait a minute,” Mrs. Turner said, shifting in her seat. “There was a grandson. Trifling sort, from what I recall. Don’t know if he’s still around or if that’s the right one. It’s the only Shaw I can think of.”

Susan patted the woman’s hand. “I’ll check there.”

“I hope I’ll see you on Sunday, Mrs. Turner,” said Gabriel. “We have two services. One at eight and one at eleven. And we have a van that can pick you up.”

Mrs. Turner nodded. “Do tell. I didn’t know about that. I’m an early riser, Reverend. I’ll think about taking you up on that eight-o’clock invitation.”

“You said you used to attend Good Shepherd, but stopped. May I ask why?”

“Simple enough,” Mrs. Turner said. “Those sermons were deadly. Preacher put me to sleep. I can sleep at home.”

Gabriel laughed. “Well, I promise to keep you awake for the duration.”

The woman nodded. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”

Susan kissed her cheek and stepped back so Gabriel could say his own farewell. He instead took Mrs. Turner’s hands in his. It wasn’t until she heard Mrs. Turner say “Amen” that Susan realized he’d been quietly praying with her.

“He’s a good one, Susan,” Mrs. Turner called out as they headed down her front steps. “Keep this one.”

Susan’s face flamed.

“So,” Gabriel said. He fell into step beside Susan, who set a brisk pace toward Madison Street. “What’s more embarrassing for you? Having her think we’re a couple or you being associated with a minister?”

Chapter Six

Stunned at the question, Susan almost stumbled over the uneven sidewalk. Before she knew it, Gabriel’s arm was under hers, steadying her.

The first impression she got was of strength, like that of a bulwark. The second was that it felt good to let someone else bear her weight. For so long, Susan had had to fend for herself. So many people depended on her—the twins, the women and children who called Galilee shelter home, the handful of employees and army of volunteers who carried out and made possible the mission of Galilee. They all looked to Susan for guidance, for strength. Not until just now did she realize what a heavy burden it could all be. Heavy, but not unbearable or unwanted.

Regaining her balance, she edged away from him before she could get used to leaning on his strength.

“I… Thank you. I…” She clamped her mouth shut until coherent thoughts decided to come out again. “I’m not embarrassed,” she finally said.

Gabriel looked at her askance, and Susan decided the expression didn’t need to be interpreted.

“Come on,” she said. “We’re headed this way.”

Two houses away from Mrs. Turner’s residence, they turned and headed down a short block until they came to Madison.

“Are we looking for something or someone in particular?”

Susan bit her lower lip. “Sort of.”

They did the same thing on this street that they’d done on the others. Talked to people who were outside on porches or stoops, knocked on doors introducing themselves and leaving brochures about the shelter.

“Do you do this often?”

“About three times a year. Sometimes four. We go to different neighborhoods.”

“And you just do blind calls like this? Walking up to houses and telling people about the shelter?”

Susan nodded.

“Incredible,” he said.

“It’s not so incredible. This is just one small part of the city. It’s too important to overlook. Many of the residents in this neighborhood won’t see fliers or posters at work or hear presentations at a luncheon. They might see an ad in the newspaper, but we can’t afford to run ads all the time. What money we get goes directly to services.”

“That’s not it,” Gabriel said, as they climbed a set of stairs to the last house on the right side of the street. “Look at how much ground we’ve covered today. If church members took the gospel to the street in this way, think of all the good we could do for the community.”

Not seeing a bell, Susan knocked on the front door. A moment later, they heard a man’s gruff voice saying, “Get rid of whoever it is.” A television blared in the background.

The door opened a sliver, just enough for a woman’s eye and mouth to appear behind a chain lock.

Bingo!

“Hi. My name’s Susan Carter and this is Gabriel Dawson. We’re just walking through the neighborhood today, letting people know about some services that are available.”

“Why is the door still open, Alice?” a man hollered.

“We don’t want any,” the woman said.

Susan jammed her foot in the door before the woman could close it. She winced as it bit into her shoe.

“Galilee Shelter,” Susan said softly. “It’s free and help is available twenty-four hours a day.” She tried to slip a brochure to the woman, but Alice shook her head. She glanced down at Susan’s shoe obstructing the door. That’s when Susan saw the black eye the woman had been trying to conceal from view.