CHAPTER 8 : ICE CREAM
Cromwell has just exited the room. Ray picks up the card and the twenty. Looking around the small room, he asks, “What was that?”
Outside Ray looks around, trying to decide what to do. Finally he flags a cab. Rather than going home, he has it take him to Gary’s office instead. Ray pays the cabbie and enters the building. A black car, becoming as ever-present as a shadow, parks down the street and remains unnoticed by Ray. Ray asks the receptionist if she could let Mr. Gary Swier know that he has a visitor. After asking him to take a seat, she picks up the phone.
A few minutes later, Gary steps out of an elevator in the lobby, looking a little confused. Once he sees Ray, the confusion vanishes and a smile appears.
“Ray, good to see you! What brings you here?” Gary asks.
Ray looks from side to side and then responds, “Umm, could we talk outside for a bit, if you have a minute?”
“No problem, Brother. I know a place around the corner.”
The two step outside and round the corner. Half a block down, they step into an ice cream parlor.
“I hope you don’t mind if we talk over a cone.”
“Yeah, umm… sure. I guess it’s been a long time since I had one of those too. I’ll take a twist.”
“I think I could almost always eat a vanilla cone. There’s really no time that one doesn’t sound appealing,” Gary comments to Ray. Then, turning to the cashier, He says, “I’ll have the usual, plus a twist.”
“Sure thing, Gary. You trying to get your friend hooked too?” The cashier laughs.
Back outside they grab a seat. Just down the block, a pair of sunglasses stare at them from behind a listening device. Cromwell is slouching slightly, trying to remain close enough to hear, and yet attempting to keep his presence unknown.
“Wow! I’m a little distracted, but I just realized where we are,” Ray exclaims. “I used to come here as a kid. My old house is less than three blocks from here.”
Across the street Cromwell’s eyebrows leap up onto his forehead. He lowers his head and rubs his chin. The corners of his mouth have turned up slightly.
“Really?” Gary asks looking at Ray. “Cool. I’m kind of a regular here these days. It’s become my usual dessert at the end of my lunch break. What’s got you distracted? Are you doing ok?”
“Gary, I have had I one very bizarre morning, and quite frankly, I don’t know what to make of it, but I figured I had better clue you in.”
Ray takes a lick of his ice cream, swallows, and lets out a sigh. “I had a visitor this morning. A Detective Timothy Crumwell, or Crumbell, or something like that,” Ray shares as he begins to rummage through his pocket for the detective’s card.
”Cromwell. We’ve met.”
“Yeah, him. He came over this when I got back from the probation office and said you were in trouble, and that he thought I could help. He was acting like a concerned friend to begin with, but after he asked me a bunch of different questions, he accused you of hiring me to kill Julie. He doesn’t think it was an accident at all; he thinks we set the whole thing up. I told him I’d never even met you before.”
“Wow, Ray. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
Gary pauses momentarily, looks back at Ray, and continues.
“The good detective and I talked yesterday. I wasn’t finished deciding if I should tell you or not. Even though he said he was going to leave you out of it, I thought perhaps I should warn you that someone was looking into some very old business.”
“I guess I wish I would have known what the detective was up too. But, it’s not like he can use any of the information I gave him anyway, even if he had believed me.”
Across the street Cromwell responds, “Oh, really? That’s what you think!”
The detective quietly begin to laugh.
Unware, Ray continues, “What do you think I should do Gary? He says he can send me back to prison for a much longer time if I don’t testify against you. Against you! After all you’ve done for me.”
“Ray, has God forgiven you?”
“Yes.”
“Have I forgiven you?”
“Yes… thank you.”
Ray’s ice cream cone is dripping onto the warm concrete. He’s no longer eating it and is just staring at the ground now.
“No problem,” Gary replies, “but have you paid your so-called debt to society?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Then as far as I’m concerned, it is all over, as far as the east is from the west. There is nothing left, regardless of what Detective Cromwell thinks or says. It’s in God’s hands now.”
Pulling out a pocket Bible, Gary hands it Ray and asks, “What does He tell us right away in Isaiah 54:17?”
The detective comments from down the street, “Yes, an excuse for every occasion, conveniently hidden in the appropriate Bible verse.”
Ray ruffles through the pages, stops, and pulls the small book a little closer. He reads aloud, “No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper”. Ray nods, “Yeah, I know that, but Cromwell said if I didn’t cooperate, he would bring me back in and charge me. What do you want me to tell him?”
“Ray, I just want you to be honest. You and I both know what happened, and we have nothing to hide. ‘The truth shall set you free.’ Read Proverbs 6:16-19,” Gary suggests and motions with his free hand towards the small Bible still on Rays lap.
After turning again, Ray reads, “These six things doth the LORD hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto him: A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, An heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, A false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren.”
“How many things out of the seven listed relate to lying?”
After looking again briefly, Ray answers, “Two.”
“Ray, if the Lord only lists seven things that He hates there, and two of them are lying, then what should we do?”
“Try to never lie?”
“Absolutely. That passage also talks about Detective Cromwell, doesn’t it?” Gary asks Ray.
“You mean because he is lying about what happened?”
“No, look at the other thing God hates which relates to how we use our tongue.”
For the next few moments Ray studies the passage. Then he responds, “One who sows discord among the brethren, right?”
“Right! The detective is trying to put us against each other. He’ll probably tell you that I’m going blame the whole thing on you and that unless you testify against me before I cut a deal, you’ll end up going back to prison, or some stuff like that. But Ray, remember, we are brothers now, and I love you. Do not fear man, God is in control.”
“Okay…” Ray trails off into an obviously pained pause. “But,” he slowly continues, “What about… you?”
His cone is now almost slipping out of his hand, and more drops are submitting themselves to the law of gravity.
“What about me, Ray?”
Rays turns away slightly, clenching his jaw, attempting not to well up in a fury a tears.
“I’m not even sure who you are, Gary.”
The emphasis applied to the word ‘Gary’ is obvious.
Gary touches Ray’s shoulder before responding. Once Ray looks back towards him, Gary locks eyes with him.
“Everyone that I have ever known has always and only called me Gary for as long as I can remember.”
He pulls out his wallet and opens it to show Ray his driver’s license.
“I was born ‘Gregory Allen Swier’, but there were too many other kids named Greg in our neighborhood, so may parents took to calling me Gary, and it’s stuck ever since. I wasn’t trying to deceive anyone, but our detective ‘friend’ apparently is.”
Ray feels embarrassed and ashamed.
“I’m so sorry, Gary…” he begins.
Gary immediately interrupts, “Forget about it Ray. Detective Cromwell is just trying to work us up and confuse us. So what should we do about him? How should we treat those who speak evil against us and try to become our enemies?”
Again Ray thinks, “We should probably pray for him, right?”
Smiling, and looking over at Ray, Gary says, “Yes, yes we should. Why don’t you start?”
They both bow their heads and Gary places his free hand on Ray’s back. Then Ray begins.
“Father God, we thank you for this day and for your love, for freedom and reconciliation. Right now, Lord, we want to lift up Timothy Cromwell to you. Lord, soften his heart in this, and help us to truly show your love for him…”
Across the street, Detective Cromwell had heard enough.
“Cute game, kids!”
He casts the earpiece out of his ear, sets down the listening device on the passenger seat, and starts the car. Scowling at the pair praying for him, he sees Gary look up at him and smile as he peels away.
Cromwell almost reaches for his piece. Almost. The nerve of that man…
“Enough of this,” Cromwell exclaims, “I’ve got enough to figure out right now without listening to those two play mind games with their Bible verses. They’ll see who’s in control. That game never works in the end. I know what’s up, and if they think that’s all I got… there’s plenty more where that came from.”
Cromwell continues muttering to himself as he weaves through traffic.
Back at the ice cream shop, Gary and Ray continue to talk.
“I guess we’ll just have to make the best of this until it passes,” Ray suggests.
“If Detective Cromwell wants to ask questions, we’ll just have to make sure we have the right answers.”
“Yeah. Good thing we know where to get them!” Ray exclaims, patting the book on his lap. Gary has taught him well.
“That’s right!” Gary glances back at Ray. “How are you getting home?”
“I’ve got enough left for a cab. Cromwell gave me a twenty when he was finished with me.”
“Good! I gotta get back to work and finish up for the day, but I’ll stop in later. Be ready by 5:30.”
They rise, hug one another, and part ways. As Gary rounds the corner back towards work, Ray looks about and scratches his head.
After debating momentarily, Ray begins to walk the three blocks to his old house.
Although the old man still lives there, it is not Ray’s house, and it doesn’t even feel like it ever was his home. He stops across the street and just stares.
He can see movement in a chair facing the TV, arms flailing.
Something is obviously being shouted at a program that refuses to cooperate with the commands Ray’s dad is screaming at it.
Ray sighs, looking extremely hurt. He raises his arm and reaches out his hand towards the figure behind the window, then, curling his fingers slowly back, he slowly forms a fist, which drops toward the ground along with Rays head. Ray rubs his forehead and looks up again before turning and walking slowly away.
“Not today, Dad. Not today.”
The End of Chapter 8
TO READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS, CLICK BELOW:
CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER 2: THE FUNERAL
CHAPTER 3: MONDAY, & FREEDOM
CHAPTER 4: TUESDAY
CHAPTER 5: INTERROGATION
CHAPTER 6: PROBATION
CHAPTER 7: RAY’S TURN
Thank you, and stay tuned for LOVE LIKE HIS : Chapter 9 - Coming soon to a steemit near you
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