Destiny

ELEVEN

The next morning Paul Marcus parked his car in the lot of Mayflower Assisted Living, which was located outside of Fairfax. He entered the facility and walked through the atrium, the smell of bleach and roses shadowed him making his way to the reception area. He was told his grandmother had just finished her breakfast in the courtyard. Marcus followed a middle-aged nurse supervisor who led him down the hallway to the terrace. Her large inner thighs caused a swishing sound each time the polyester uniform rubbed together. She pointed to a woman sitting in a wheelchair.

“It’s kinda cool outside, but your grandmother insists on bein’ out here. She’s got her favorite sweater on, and we make sure she isn’t out here too long.”

“Thank you.” Marcus left the nurse and walked toward his grandmother.

Mama Davis sat by herself. Speckled sunlight broke through canopies of red and yellow leaves in the oak and mulberry trees. The old woman turned toward the warmth from the sun. Her face was aged and wrinkled but yet radiant. She closed her eyes and listened to the breeze in the boughs. A cardinal chirped and flittered through the limbs while two squirrels played hide-and-seek around the base of an oak tree.

She wore her white hair pinned up, a touch of pink powder on her cheeks. She held a cup of tea in both hands and opened her eyes to Marcus.

“Good morning, Mama Davis.”

The old woman smiled. Marcus bent down and kissed her cheek. “Oh, Paul, my dear, Paul. I didn’t know you were coming. I’d have fixed my face, had I known.”

“You never need make-up. You’re a natural beauty.” Marcus smiled and stood.

“Pull up a chair and let’s visit.”

Marcus slid a wooden rocking chair next to his grandmother and sat down. She patted him on the knee. “I wonder if you’re getting enough to eat. You’re looking a little on the thin side. I worry about you…have ever since Tiffany and Jenny passed.”

“I’m fine. And I’m eating well. Even Buddy likes my cooking.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “I miss that sweet dog. How is he?”

“Buddy’s great. The question is…how are you doing? The nurse said your blood pressure has regulated, but how’s that ankle?”

“Getting better. This old body is pretty resilient — I’ll be good as new in no time. Where I’m having trouble is…I miss my little home and your farm, too. I make friends here, but just about the time I get to know them, who they are and how many grandkids they have, they pass away. Harold Snyder, you remember him from your last visit, Paul?

“Yes.”

She nodded. “Well, he died right here on the patio in his wheelchair two weeks ago. The help thought he’d fallen asleep, but I knew better. His chest wasn’t moving up and down.” She glanced at the cloudless sky and was silent for a moment. Then she looked directly at Marcus. “You’re troubled. I can feel it. You’ve been gifted to see and feel things, so what’s going on?”

“Then, why couldn’t I see the deaths of my family, maybe do something to stop it?”

“We can only see what’s revealed to us, Paul. Tiny cracks, these little places where just a drop of God’s paint is shared within a canvas big as the universe, show up and shed light on things.”

“I want Jen and Tiffany’s killer revealed.”

“He will be.” She held a resolute gaze on her grandson.

“I came here to let you know I’m thinking about going overseas for a little while.”

She nodded and looked at the squirrels darting through the fallen leaves, her eyes marred with cataracts and yet filled with truth. “Are you going over there to accept the Nobel Prize?”

“No. If I go, it would be about something else.”

“What’s that?”

“A professor who works for a university in Jerusalem believes my name is connected to an old document left behind by Isaac Newton. The professor said Newton wrote my name in his papers near the time of his death. And he thinks I can pick up where Newton left off and crack or reveal some things Newton was working on when he died.”

“So this professor believes your name is connected to Newton. That’s interesting…through math, science, prophecy? What was Newton working on?”

“Sounds weird, I know. Apparently, Newton was researching biblical prophecies. More specifically, whether events were or are foretold in the Bible. I’m not sure there is a connection, only that some Israeli professor claims it’s my name in Newton’s notes.”

“I believe some events are God’s providence. He opens them through his prophets. My goodness — let me collect my runaway thoughts. Okay, there were people like Ezekiel, Daniel, Jeremiah, Solomon and others. Jesus gave us prophecy, too. Are you going?”

“I haven’t decided.”

“Go, Paul. You’ve been gifted. Go to Jerusalem. Maybe you can help make known God’s plan, if that’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

“If all is known, or planned in some kind of divine providence, what’s the use? We’d be as insignificant as pawns on some chessboard.”

Mama Davis sipped her tea, choosing her words carefully. “I believe it is all part of a larger picture we won’t fully understand until it’s disclosed to us.” She held her eyes on Marcus and then touched his right hand. “The discovery you made figuring out how to adjust the life spark in a human heart was revealed to you through your gifted talents and some help.”

Marcus smiled. “I’ll let you know what I decide.” He stood to leave, bent down and kissed his grandmother’s cheek.

“Do you have to go now? You’re the only visitor who comes to see me — in person that is.” She winked and smiled wide. “I miss you, Paul.”

“I miss you, too, Mama Davis. I have to get back to let Buddy out.”

She took both of his hands in hers. Marcus could feel her very slow heartbeat.

“Listen to me, grandson. I’m old, and I’ve lived a long life. The older I get, the more I do know that there is a grander picture. I can’t explain that awful thing that happened to Jennifer and Tiffany. But God didn’t cause it.”

“And he didn’t prevent it.”

“But you are still alive. Why? You’ll see, Paul, God will work it into good.”

“Without them, what the hell does that mean, good?”

The old woman was silent for a moment. “You figured out how to fix hearts. It’s my prayer that you’ll figure out how to fix yours, ‘cause your heart is buried in bedrock deeper than the Blue Ridge Mountains.”

“I have to go.” Marcus paused, the rustle of wind growing stronger in the trees.

She nodded and lowered her eyes for a moment, licking her bottom lip. Then she looked up and took in the full measure of her grandson. “I feel that you hold God responsible for the deaths of Tiffany and Jennifer. You will only see what will be revealed to you. When that happens, trust in a higher power — have faith — because it will be returned to you.”

“What are you saying? I don’t believe in—”

“Listen to me, Paul. He wouldn’t have chosen you if you couldn’t do His will on earth.”

A brown leaf fluttered down from a tall oak, settling in Mama Davis’s lap. Marcus looked at it. “What if God’s dead as that leaf?”

“When you go to Jerusalem, if your desire is to prove God is responsible for what happened to Tiffany and Jennifer, you will leave with nothing. But if you open your heart to our Lord’s calling, you will see through the glass stained by evil, see through the dark places.”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Mama Davis.”

“I think you will in time. Your grandfather used to say the difference between an intelligent person and a wise person is the choices he or she makes for the good of others.”

Marcus leaned in and kissed his grandmother on her forehead. “Goodbye, Mama Davis. I’ll let you know what I decide. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Be careful, Paul. There’s something in my heart that’s whispering disturbing things. I just can’t hear it well enough, yet.”