Unbreakable Hope Page 7

Darin looked at the boys in front of them and then halted his steps. “Emily, there’s about one thousand pounds of us, and a homeless man in a heap on the dock. I guess I just fail to see the threat.” He blinked, waiting for her answer.

  “He could have had a gun,” she suggested.

  “He could have had a machete and a nine iron too.”

  Emily looked away. “Now you’re just making fun of me.”

  Darin brushed the back of his hand along her cheek. “I am not making fun of you, Emily. You’re right. I should have taken you on a proper date. I just wanted the boys to meet you, and I guess I got a little ahead of myself.” He cupped her hand in his. “For tonight, I ask one thing. That you would trust me for just this evening. I know I’m not your standard fare when it comes to dating. I just can’t help myself when I see someone down on their luck. It’s like something in me clicks. Two years ago that was me in the gutter, and Fireman Mike rescued me for Jesus. I feel indebted every day and I want to repay.” He clasped her hand tighter. “I don’t know how to put my gratitude into words, and actions just never seem enough.”

  “But no one said anything to that man about Jesus.”

  Darin shook his head. “We were Jesus to that man today. That’s more important than handing him a tract, Emily.”

  She had never encountered this in her lifetime in the church, and she squirmed in her uneasiness. She was a good Christian. She lived a good life and set a good example for her students. She left the gutter-gathering to others. Was it so wrong that she hadn’t been called to evangelize? She bit back tears.

  “A good tract is an important item.”

  “Not without relationship and prayer. Only God can make a tract come to life.”

  Emily checked her watch. It was going to be a long night. She wanted to live a bold faith, but it wasn’t in her. Looking into Darin’s misty green eyes, she didn’t think it would ever be. It was just like a young writer aspiring to be the Hemingway of his generation. One only had so much capacity for learning. Part of it had to come from God.

  Eight

  According to the car’s dashboard, it was 11:47 p.m. when Emily arrived home. After they’d dropped the boys in EPA, the ride to her home was nearly silent, and she didn’t know how to break it. She wished for something to say, something that might let Darin know she wasn’t proud of her actions, but that she’d been frightened nonetheless. His silence spoke volumes. This evening had been like trying to force a puzzle piece that didn’t fit into the puzzle. Darin and she shared a strong attraction, but little else. She didn’t share his vibrant outgoing personality, and she certainly didn’t share his lack of fear.

  Emily supposed she’d sounded callous, judgmental, and unconcerned for her fellow man. She might have felt guilty if she hadn’t legitimately panicked. Her thoughts drifted away at the sight of her lighted front porch.

  Darin turned off the car and faced her. His handsome face was lit by a lone streetlight, and when he turned toward her all ambiguity was gone. She wanted to forget the life he led. She wanted to follow Darin into the barrio and learn his ways, but she wasn’t that type of person. She wasn’t that type of Christian. Couldn’t he see that? Some Christians were called to the mission field, and some were called to other pursuits, like children in the public school system.

  Darin spoke, his voice forlorn. “I’m sorry, Emily. I really am. I had hopes tonight would be different. I had dreams of dining you over the San Francisco Bay and gazing at the sunset and the Golden Gate Bridge with the kids learning how to treat a woman. I guess I’m not the romantic I imagine.”

  “But you wouldn’t change what happened tonight?” Her tone sounded so angry and clipped. She felt ashamed and almost astonished that she’d chastised him as easily as she did. Like he was one of her students.

  “Wouldn’t you have done the same thing? That man was hungry,” Darin said. She could see his eyes blinking rapidly under the street light. It was obvious he didn’t understand her at all.

  Emily sat up straight, trying to maintain a sense of decorum. “You know, we’re just obviously called to different ministries.” Sadness enveloped her as she spoke.

  “We both love children,” he said.

  “But it’s different. You work with children I don’t understand and teenagers.” She crossed her arms, but inside her heart withered a bit. She sounded remarkably like her mother. A woman who scared most children to the point they’d run from her at church. Would Emily grow old the same way? “I want to work where I’m comfortable.”

  Darin spoke quietly, reverently, and in a way that commanded attention. “You know, Emily, I run the risk of sounding judgmental here, but God didn’t give you a spirit of fear. I don’t know what you were so frightened of in San Francisco—that guy was an old man who needed something to eat. He obviously didn’t have the strength to pursue us, much less the motive.”

  “No motive, you say? He’s sleeping on the pier and you think he has no motive to steal? I don’t think you’re judgmental, Darin, I think you just live in a world that’s far too trusting and naive. We’re obviously called to different arenas.” She shrugged as if none of it mattered, but her heart pounded. The clipped voice continued as if it had a will of its own. “No harm done, I suppose. Thank you for an interesting evening.” She started to grasp the door handle but turned back. In her own way she was hoping Darin would stop her.

  Darin clicked on the light in the car. “No, it’s not okay. If you never see me again, that’s your choice, but you can’t live your life for Christ cowering behind the safety of your little created world, Emily. ‘There is no fear in love.’ ” He quoted Scripture, which only infuriated her more. Yet, in some strange way, she felt softened. She actually envied Darin’s self-assuredness. “You fear because you don’t trust God.”

  Her stomach roiled. “What? I have trusted God my whole life. So my faith isn’t bright like a newly lit candle as yours is, but mine burns constant and true. Yours may prove to be a flicker in time.” Just as she said it, her hand flew to her mouth. Darin’s demeanor sparkled bright with the Holy Spirit. She didn’t know where her tears came from, but she started to cry. Guilt mounted and she had to face the truth, as ugly as it was. She controlled her world. God did not.

  “The man was hungry,” Darin said again, and this time Emily got it. She swallowed her tears as if they were an acceptance of something hateful. Something she didn’t want to own, yet must. “I didn’t help him and he was hungry,” she repeated.

  “Whatever you do for the least of these. . .”

  “I do for Jesus.” How many times had she taught that Sunday school lesson?

  And then, as if showing her he forgave her, he added, “I’d like to bring you home for dinner to my parents’ house. You’re nothing like what they imagine I’d be interested in, and I admit I’m kind of excited to show you off.”

  “I don’t imagine I’m anyone you would be interested in.” Emily forced a laugh. She didn’t want to put herself through this again. Her world may have been simple, but it was predictable and safe. She could learn to trust God more on her own terms.

  “You’re wrong there. I know this isn’t easy, you and me. But I feel it with everything in my being that we’re meant to do something great together.” He paused before adding, “Are you busy Thursday night?”

  “I have choir practice. For the kids’ Christmas musical at church.”

  “Friday night then? Do you want to have dinner with me again? Or do you think of me as some kind of project.” He looked away when he asked, as if he was nervous for her answer.

  Why did he care? It was obvious nothing serious could ever come from this awkward relationship. Why didn’t Darin just move on? Like her brother Kyle had done, like Mike had done, and like all the men in between.

  A crash suddenly broke the silence, and Emily felt shards of glass hit her arm. The passenger window had been broken, and drops of blood trickled down her arm. Darin lit from the car like a rocket, and she saw him c
hasing a man down her darkened street.

  Emily looked to her feet in utter amazement. There was no purse at her ankles, only broken glass everywhere. When her mind stopped reeling, she heard herself call out to Jesus, begging for Darin’s safety. She punched her cell phone and dialed 911, but her fingers shook and she had to dial it three times before getting it right.

  It was all so fresh, she could barely tell the operator what had happened.

  “There was a man,” she gasped.

  “Where is the man?” the operator asked.

  “Ran down the street. Darin chased him.”

  “Who’s Darin, Ma’am?”

  “My friend.” Emily exhaled deeply. “My purse is gone.”

  “I need your location, Ma’am.”

  She hadn’t even given her address. She did so and then blurted, “When will you be here?”

  “We have an officer in the neighborhood. They’ll be there soon. Which way did your friend head?”

  “North, toward Cuesta Drive.”

  “Help is on the way. Are you hurt?”

  Emily clutched her arm. She had a small cut. “I’m bleeding a little on my arm. Nothing serious.”

  She lost all sense of self and just wanted to know Darin was safe.

  O Lord, bring him back to me.

  GET OUT OF THE CAR!

  Emily heard the voice as clear as day but had no idea where it came from. She didn’t question it. Once out of the vehicle, she looked around, unsure what she should do next. She stood there in her apartment driveway, as if waiting for some miracle voice to tell her what to do, but nothing came. Nothing happened.

  In her shortness of breath, Emily started to run in the direction Darin had gone. Soon she had a steady gait going, and she screamed out, “Darin!”

  No one answered her.

  She screamed again, “Darin, answer me!”

  Again, only silence met her shaken voice. At the corner, she saw Darin’s coat crumpled in a heap. She swooped to pick it up and stood for a moment, calling his name desperately. He moaned, and she saw him lying on his side.

  “Darin!” Emily grasped his shoulders and turned him over. The dim streetlight lit his face, and she saw a gash in his forehead. “Darin, no! What happened?”

  “Pipe,” he mumbled. He reached to touch his forehead, but Emily grabbed his hand.

  “No, don’t touch it. Help will be here soon.” The wail of sirens pierced through the late night, and she ran into the street to stop the policeman. She waved him down, standing directly in his path. To her relief, the vehicle slowed down.

  “Help me! A man is hurt.”

  The policeman radioed for help and climbed out of the squad car, leaving it running. He bent over Darin’s frame, shining a flashlight into those brilliant eyes that first caught her attention. Now the sight of those eyes, under a canopy of pain, wrenched her heart. She could still hear her heart beating, not from her own fear, but for Darin.

  If he wasn’t okay, she’d never forgive herself. Her cold words came back to haunt her, and she tried to force her own voice away, but the echo kept coming. He could have had a knife.

  “Is he going to be okay?” Emily heard herself ask the officer.

  “Paramedic’s on the way. He’s got a concussion. Has he been conscious at all since you saw this?”

  “He spoke to me. He said the word pipe.”

  “Do you know if he’s had a concussion before?”

  “I think so. He was in a bad car accident once.”

  The officer nodded. “How’d this happen?”

  Emily pointed behind her. “I live up the street. Darin and I were in the car and someone broke in for my purse.” Her voice trembled in her disbelief. She lived in a solid neighborhood with upstanding people. She’d just come from the inner city. “How could they have known where my purse was? Tell me he’s going to be okay.”

  “Did you have a light on in the car?”

  “Yes,” Emily shrugged, not understanding the question.

  “People on drugs are often attracted to light, like a moth to the flame. Do you know if the assailant hurt himself on the window?”

  “I never even saw him until Darin chased him, then he was just a shadow.” She let out a small sob.

  “Ma’am, you need to calm down. He’s been hit hard, but we’ll get him help just as soon as we can. It’s probably just a simple concussion and he’ll be back with us soon. I’m going to need a statement from you.”

  Emily shook her head. “No, I’m going to the hospital. I need to be there for Darin. I wouldn’t feed the hungry.”

  The officer looked at her cockeyed but didn’t question her babbling. “I’ll get you there as soon as I have your statement. Do you want to find the guy who did this?”

  “No—I mean I don’t care. I just want Darin to be okay.”

  The paramedics arrived and went straight for Darin. Emily stood idly wondering what she should do. She wanted to help, but when she stepped forward the officer held her back. Seeing bold, muscular Darin lying helpless in a crumpled heap on the lawn brought chills to her spine. For her purse, he’d ended up this way. She thought about the $12 cash she carried and wanted to cry out. For $12 and a few credit cards, someone had done this.

  “Ma’am, please. I just need to get a statement from you.”

  Emily turned toward the officer and nodded. Silently she prayed, undone by the night’s irony. She’d survived the San Francisco Embarcadero and Theatre District, and the inner city of East Palo Alto, only to be mugged in her own safe-haven neighborhood. Someone had a wicked sense of humor and she tried to force the thought from her head that it was God.

  Emily told the police all she could remember, but it was so very little. All, except the voice that propelled her from the car. She didn’t think hearing voices made for a very good witness. She heard Darin moan again, and she felt the sound to the soles of her feet. There is no fear in love. Shockingly, with all she’d witnessed tonight, she felt no fear. She knew with everything in her being that Darin would be fine. With amazing clarity, she realized she trembled from the cold. For once in her life, she wasn’t in her comfort zone and she wasn’t afraid. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of her pained friend. She felt only anger now. Life wasn’t fair and it really should be.

  Nine

  Peacefully, Emily sat among the city’s transients. She didn’t even know Los Altos, home of the rich, had transients, but there they sat—smelling of liquor and in desperate need of clipping shears. She drew in deep breaths and let them out fully, the way she’d been taught at Pilates exercise class. Although she felt peace, she was still felt thankful for the metal detector at the door. She feared sharp objects within the vicinity of these men. She focused on watching the cable news show and reading day-old newspapers in the Emergency Room waiting room.

  Emily called Darin’s parents, after guessing with the local phone book. Luckily, they were listed. His mother didn’t sound pleased to hear from her, but who could blame the woman? It was the middle of the night, and she brought bad news. Hardly the way to ingratiate oneself into the family.

  Not long after, an older couple rushed into the waiting room, heading straight for the triage nurse. Emily knew that must be them.

  “Someone called us. Our son is here, Darin Black.” The woman wore full makeup with dyed black hair and had the same striking green eyes as her son. Smile lines didn’t frame her eyes the way they did Darin’s. Rather, she had one deep crease in the center of her forehead. Emily got up to greet them.

  “Only one of you may go in at a time,” the nurse droned.

  The mother exhaled. “Why? We’re both his parents.”

  “Because those are the rules.” The triage nurse crossed her arms, making it obvious the subject wasn’t up for discussion.

  “That’s fine. We’ll wait for his fiancée to get here. She’s parking the car and she’ll want to see him.

  Emily sat back down, her eyes darting about the room. She knew Darin didn’t
have a fiancée but couldn’t imagine why his mother would make one up. It was the middle of the night. Where would they find an imaginary fiancée? Had Darin lied to her?

  “Only family members allowed,” the triage nurse repeated. “His fiancée doesn’t count without a marriage license. See security when you’re ready and decide which of you will go in.” With that, the nurse sliced the window shut and went back to her paperwork.

  The mother cursed, and Emily winced. Darin’s mother was nothing like she imagined. Darin emanated joy while his mother seemed angry at the world. His father just looked conquered, as if any means to speak up for himself had long since disappeared. His chin hung low and he sat down in a chair, obviously waiting for his wife to make a decision for them both.

  “I’ll go in first,” Mrs. Black stated.

  Mr. Black acquiesced with a nod of his head.

  Emily went toward the couple. “Excuse me, I’m Emily Jensen. I was with Darin tonight when he was hit. I mean, I was with him in the car before he chased the man.”

  Mrs. Black looked Emily up and down. She felt the scrutinizing glare and squared her shoulders against the laser-sharp stare. “What was he doing with you?”

  “We went to the city tonight with some of his kids from East Palo Alto.”

  “This happened in the ghetto? I should have known.” Mrs. Black couldn’t hide her disgust at the mention of EPA. Her face puckered like a prune. With shame, Emily thought she and Mrs. Black weren’t as far apart as she would have hoped.

  “No, actually it happened on my street. In Los Altos.”

  “Los Altos? You must be kidding me. You’re the one who called then?”

  Emily nodded.

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Emily Jensen,” she repeated. “I teach first grade in Los Altos. I met your son at a wedding in our church.”

  Mrs. Black sighed loudly. “My son is not the type to go to church, Missy. Whatever he told you, it’s temporary. He’s always into one phase or another, and right now I’m afraid he’s into the tortured sinner role.” She lowered her voice. “His future bride will be here any minute, and I don’t think she’ll like finding you here. But I do appreciate your phone call and concern. That was very sweet of you.” She paused before adding with a smile. “Very Christian of you.” Then she motioned with her hand for Emily to leave. “Thank you again.”