Anthony was nine years old again in that soup kitchen, only the people weren’t getting food for their stomachs, they were getting it for their souls and Anthony was still hoping for his Schwinn bike.
“It’s okay,” Ellis said finally. “It’s not like learning to swim. You can just jump in.”
“I’m sorry,” Anthony said without knowing why.
Ellis squeezed his shoulder. “You’d be amazed how many people say that, but it’s not to me you want to address your penitence.” He tilted his head to the giant Jesus.
Anthony glanced and glanced away. Had it moved again, blinked this time?
“Today is Maundy Thursday. It’s in remembrance of the Last Supper, when Jesus, as a man, last broke bread with his disciples and imparted in them the foundation of his spiritual doctrine. It is a special occasion and that’s why I invited you here.”
“But the woman, Shelly, said this place wasn’t open to the public until Sunday.”
“It’s not, though our signs say otherwise. We’re … selective. We have to be—it’s how He wants it.”
Did he mean God or the statue?
“Why me?”
Ellis took a breath. “You made it this far, Anthony, so I don’t hesitate to tell you that you are very special. We came looking for you last Saturday, specifically.”
“Dwayne said something about that. I don’t get it. You picked me out of the phone book or something?” Or they were watching Delaney. Remember what Dwayne said: You’re daughter, she’s very pretty.
Ellis shook his head, chuckled. “You’re very tense. There is no reason to be so. You will have to take a few things on faith, or at least suspend your disbelief if you want me to explain.”
That’s for you, Dad.
“Go ahead.”
“When I was a young boy, I used to wander off. That’s how my mother put it, though I’m sure my little wanderings nearly gave her a coronary. I would walk into the woods or down the street or off through a parking lot. She scolded me several times but it never deterred me. My father once grounded me for three months straight—I was twelve at the time—and I never tried to escape my room, but once I was let out again, off I would wander. It wasn’t because I wanted to defy my parents, God rest their souls, but because I had to go—something was calling me and I had to find it.”
“What was it?”
Ellis smiled. “God, of course, though that’s really the simplest answer. I’m not sure what, or who, was calling me. It wasn’t as though I heard something, don’t misunderstand me. Something was calling for me, but I didn’t hear it—I sensed it.”
“And whatever it was wanted you to walk off so your parents couldn’t find you?”
“Whatever the power is, I don’t think it cares who I may leave behind. It only wants me to go toward something, typically someone. I wandered off once when I was about seven. I walked off our front lawn and headed through the neighborhood with only the vaguest idea of where I was headed. I passed several people, I remember not one of them said anything to me, and I grew frightened. But I kept walking because whatever was calling for me had gotten stronger. I was close, though I had no idea why I believed that.
“I came upon this house with green shutters, I remember that detail quite clearly. There was a car parked in the driveway, the driver’s door open. An elderly man with thin wisps of hair covering his scalp dangled out of the car, the seatbelt the only thing keeping him from falling head-first onto the concrete.
“I walked right up to this man and tried to say hello but his eyes were closed, his body slack as if he had fallen asleep while getting out of his car. I touched him on the forehead, right above an incredibly bushy eyebrow. His skin was hot from the sun beating on him. He was going to get sunburned. Without any idea why, I said, ‘You’re not finished, not yet.’ Then a car screeched to a halt in the road and my mother was screaming for me to get in her car right now.”
Ellis paused, made sure Anthony was still with him. “When I turned back, the old man’s eyes were open and he whispered one word: ‘help.’ My mother never told me anything more about that man but I overheard her and my father talking about it that night. The guy had suffered a stroke and had I not found him, he’d be dead.”
There was promise in that anecdote, no doubt, but Anthony couldn’t let go of the part of his mind that argued the whole thing was spurious, a mere coincidence.
“Sometimes,” Ellis said, “when I’m in crowded places, I sense that calling for me again and I wander until I find where I’m supposed to go. I once stopped a wife from beating her child, a young man from breaking up with his sweetheart, and several people from committing suicide.”
“In public?”
“They were people who intended to go home that very night and kill themselves until I found them. I realize this sounds very coincidental, convenient even. But you can talk to many of those people if you want. Several of them are part of this ministry.”
You’re a predator, preying on the weak and brainwashing them into your empowerment ways.
The giant Jesus moved again, just a twitch, but enough to give Anthony a jump.
“I’m telling you this because last Saturday when Dwayne and I knocked on your door, I had that calling again. It led me to you. There is a reason.”
“What?”
Ellis shook his head but didn’t lose the smile. “I don’t have all the answers, Anthony. Only He can help you with those.” He stepped aside and made a slight upsweeping gesture toward the giant, crucified Jesus. “Your daughter was taken from you, but now you are here. Whether it was to stop you from doing something or simply help you get through your pain, I am happy that my calling led me to you.”
“You knew I’d come back?”
“The man you assailed yesterday, Dwayne, was once a repeat wife abuser. He had been arrested five times for domestic disturbances. He broke his wife’s nose twice. Her arm three times. She never pressed charges, however. He’d go to jail for a few days, sleep off his drunkenness, and return home.
“She got pregnant, hoped having the baby would somehow cure Dwayne of his problem. We think that way a lot, as people, that additions (more kids, more money, whatever) will help eradicate the bad habits, the ill inclinations, the darkness that hovers around some people. But there is only one thing that can heal people.
“This was five years ago. I was a parishioner in a little church that wanted to make big changes. I had brought in half of the congregation just from my little wanderings. Some people called me a prophet, but I’m just a man, following whatever mystical power it is that guides me. I went wandering one cold Saturday in February. It was already past nightfall and I really didn’t want to go on one of my jaunts, but I went. I can’t tell you how thankful I am that I did.
“I eventually came to a house echoing with screams and the clattering of thrown objects. The houses next door were dark. The people inside had heard this little violent drama enough times and were content to ignore it. I walked right up to that house, found the door unlocked, and walked inside.