“I don't see why, sir. I'm fine and ready to go back to sea.”
The chaplain smiled. “I know you think you're ready, but you need time.”
“No. I'm fine. I'll have my gear packed and ready to go if you'll just say the word. I need to get back out there.”
The lieutenant stood and walked to the window. He watched a company of men trot past, then turned and looked at Luke. “I hear a lot of bitterness in your words, and I understand why it's there.” He rocked back on his heels. “From what you've told me, though, it sounds like your father made the decision about his life. Ray Townsend didn't kill him. The bear did.”
Luke folded his arms over his chest. He'd heard this before.
“All you've been through with your family isn't easy to deal with. I understand that. But I've seen lots of different kinds of hatred and reasons for it in my day, especially since the war began. They all lead to the same place…” He leaned on the desk and met Luke's eyes. “Hate's a killer to the one who carries it.”
Luke could feel the fire of his hate, and with all that had happened, he figured he had a right to hang onto it. Besides, he didn't know how to extinguish it and wasn't certain he wanted to. He remembered his mother's pleas for him to forgive. He hadn't been able to. He pictured Ray Townsend sitting on his father's tractor, and he clenched his teeth. “Sir, I don't know how to let it go.”
“It's not easy, son. But it's possible.” He sat and leaned back in his chair. “You might want to start by grieving. Have you ever allowed yourself to mourn your father's death?”
“I don't know. Never thought about it much. I think I just got mad and stayed that way.”
John glanced at his watch. “I have an appointment. Can you come by tomorrow at this same time? We'll talk some more.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Luke stood and walked to the door. “Thank you for the help.”
His steps heavy, Luke headed for the barracks. He'd remembered who he was, but he also knew that Justin and his father were dead and that Ray and his mother were married. He also knew Mattie didn't love him. A pain rose up from deep inside and radiated through him. Maybe it would have been better if he hadn't remembered.
He dropped onto his rack, lay back, and rested his head on folded arms. His thoughts turned to Mattie. She probably thinks I'm dead. What if she married someone else? He closed his eyes and immersed himself in the memory of her. He missed her, the longtime friendship they'd shared, and their mutual love. He knew she'd loved him once.
His mind flashed to Alex, Mattie's brother. He was dead, and it was his fault. Luke could see the grinding ice and water sweeping away his friend. He'd been the one who had insisted they go out on the ice that day. Alex shouldn't have died.
The similarity between what had happened between himself and Alex and what had occurred between his father and Ray hit him. He felt the weight of guilt drop onto his chest. He couldn't breathe.
“Alex was my friend. I didn't want him to die,” he whispered.
A voice in his mind said, “And Ray didn't want your father to die either.”
Luke rolled onto his side. A confusion of memories and questions tumbled through his mind. Maybe he was just as bad as Ray Townsend. No. I didn't hate Alex. I didn't want him to die. Ray hated my father, and when he died, it was exactly what Ray wanted.
The parable from Matthew 18 about the unmerciful servant floated to his consciousness. The master had forgiven his servant's debt; then that same servant was unable to forgive a man who owed him money and he'd had the man thrown into prison.
The last two verses of the parable sent a shock of fear through Luke. And his master was angry and delivered him to the torturers until he should pay all that was due to him. So, my heavenly Father also will do to you if each of you from his heart does not forgive his brother his trespasses.
Luke saw himself in that man; but even so, when he thought of Ray, all he felt was rage. How could he rid himself of it? Maybe grieving his father's death would be a place to start. The pain that had been lodged in his heart for so many years was firmly rooted. He concentrated on it, and this time when it swelled he didn't push it down but allowed the tears he'd held in check for so long to flow.
Chapter 24
MATTIE SWEPT DIRT INTO A DUSTPAN, THEN DUMPED IT IN THE TRASH. SHE gazed out the window. Winter had transformed the valley into a fantasy world of white. Tree limbs were encased in heavy frost, their trunks mounded with snow, and bushes had been transformed into crystal plumes. She'd seen this many times, but it still caught her imagination and filled her with wonder.
Mattie placed the broom and dustpan in a closet and quietly closed the door. Her grandmother was sleeping. It was her habit to nap mid-morning and rest her ancient body. Sometimes she seemed closer to death than life. She slept now, her mouth puckered into a smile, frail arms folded over her stomach and her legs, like skinny posts, folded at the ankles.
She'll be gone soon, Mattie thought sadly, unable to imagine life without the tenacious old woman. How could someone be here one moment and the next, gone forever? She'll be happy to go. She wants to be with the ones who have already departed.
Her mind moved to Meryl and the letter she'd received from her. Meryl had told her she was holding off getting a roommate so her best friend would have a place to stay when she returned. In many ways Mattie craved Seattle, but since arriving home the world had seemed peaceful in contrast to the big city. In a small way the pervading tranquillity had penetrated her soul. Seattle offered her opportunities and more freedom than she had here, but she didn't want to leave just yet. She had only so much time left with her grandmother, and Mattie feared if she moved on now she would soon return for a funeral. However, studying the old woman, she thought, I have to say good-bye sometime.
Mattie crossed to Atuska and pulled the coverlet that had sagged to the floor up over her shoulders. Atuska moaned softly and rolled onto her side. Mattie smiled, remembering how her grandmother had tried to reassure her about Luke. She'd been so certain he was well, in spite of the fact that he was still listed as missing. Where was he? Probably at the bottom of the ocean, she thought, anguish squeezing her insides. I wish I'd married him.
The sound of an engine and the crunch of tires carried in from outside. Mattie went to the window. It was Jean Townsend. Odd, Mattie thought. She's usually working at this time. Had she heard from Luke? Or had she heard about him? Fear dredged through Mattie.
Mattie could read nothing by looking at Jean who was huddled against the wind, her face hidden by a hood. She seemed in a hurry, and a moment later a knock sounded at the door. Mattie's feet were fixed to the floor. Jean rapped again.
“Is someone here?” Atuska asked, her voice raspy and groggy. She pushed up on one elbow.
“It's Mrs. Townsend,” Mattie said, moving to the door. Please, let him be alive, she prayed and opened the door.
Jean smiled; in fact, she was beaming. It's not bad news, Mattie thought, relief washing through her.
“I'm so glad you're here. I thought I saw someone at the window.” Jean paused. “I have news.” She pulled a folded telegram out of her coat pocket. “He's safe.”
Mattie felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. For a moment she couldn't breathe. Finally she asked, “He is?” A flood of joy flowed through her, and she added, “I was so afraid.”
“He's coming home!” Jean announced, sweeping Mattie into her arms.
“When will he be here?”
Jean glanced at the telegram. “I don't know. It doesn't say.”
Mattie turned to her grandmother. “Did you hear? Luke's alive! And he's coming home!”
Atuska was sitting up. She smiled. “I knew it. I knew his spirit was still earthbound.”
Mattie looked at Jean. “Where has he been?”
