(10-15 min)
Jake lived by himself on the outskirts of town. Nobody talked to him. He was fine with that preferring loneliness to shame. At 62, just a few more years as an Instacart delivery guy and he could step away from the public altogether. That would be a blessing, although he had to admit his current gig wasn’t bad. Ringing the doorbell and leaving suited him just fine.
Rarely did he think about the day 30 years ago that ruined his life. “It was better if you just ignore it”, he thought to himself. Rehashing did no good at all and only upset him. But there was a price to pay for 30 years of isolation and tamping down one’s emotions. Jake was largely dead inside and was just putting in time until his body caught up.
In the summer he planted flowers and kept his place fastidiously neat. He had no idea why this was comforting, but it was. Maybe it was the control he had over his one little postage stamp of the world.
On this unusually hot October day he was in his yard trying to keep the flowers going until the freeze came. Squatting down with his hands in the dirt he ignored all that was going on around him including the woman who last summer moved in across the street. She was on her front porch in a rocking chair considering him.
*****************
Meredith Johnson watched Jake’s balding head move slightly as each flick of the wrist turned over dirt in his garden. Veronica, her next-door-neighbor and new friend, walked up on the porch waving hi and plopped down beside her.
Meredith nodded her head hello still staring at Jake. “Who is that guy?”
“His name’s Jake,” Veronica said. “He’s alright. Keeps to himself mostly. I see him outside and say hello from time to time. Not much of a talker that one.”
“What’s he do?”
Veronica shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “I heard some rumors that he used to be a teacher, but something bad happened and he lost his job. Who knows these days,” she said shrugging her shoulders. “Maybe he abused a kid or something.”
Meredith liked Veronica. Very laid-back. “Doesn’t anybody remember it from the town?” She figured somebody had to know about this guy who lived immediately across the street from her and her son, Andrew.
“He’s not from here,” Veronica replied. “Whatever he was involved with happened way across the country. I heard it was maybe 20-30 years ago. Anyone who would remember likely passed on or moved away. Why so interested?”
Meredith got a troubled expression like someone about to do something stupid who knew it. “I heard the rumor he was a teacher. Andrew is having some real trouble with math, and I’m worried about him Veronica. He’s getting angry and distant. I need some help. If he just wasn’t so frustrated by school, maybe…”, she trailed off. “I thought a good tutor could help.”
“Here’s another thought,” said Veronica. “Why don’t you walk over and ask Jake.”
“I couldn’t do that! I don’t even know him.”
“Okay,” Veronica shrugged. “Suit yourself. Thought I’d make a run to the grocery store. You need anything?”
“No, I’m good,” Meredith said, tearing her eyes away from across the street and smiling at her friend. “Thanks anyhow.”
Meredith sat for another five minutes contemplating and stood.
“Excuse me. I’m Meredith Johnson. I live across the street from you.” The upward inflection added to the final words revealed her tenuous conviction to this desperate plan.
“Yes?” The man replied in a chronic smoker’s voice.
“I understand you are a teacher.”
“Was,” Jake replied without looking up.
“Well, I was wondering.” She paused.
Jake stuck his trowel in the mulch, rotated out of the squat he was in and plopped down hard on his rump. He encircled his knees with his arms and stared up at her.
“I know we don’t know each other, but my son is having trouble with math, and I was wondering if you might be willing to tutor him.”
He frowned in response waving his hand back and forth and shaking his head. A clear no being conveyed.
“I’d be willing to pay whatever you want,” Meredith pleaded. An empty promise if ever there was one given her low-paying job.
Jake stood. “I don’t teach anymore Mrs. Johnson. Sorry.” He stood with a grunt and walked away toward his front door.
“Please, I don’t know where else to turn.” The beginnings of a sob caught her off guard and she struggled to get control of herself. It was so hard being a single parent, and she was so worried her son’s struggles would mature into rebellion.
“Hell”, Jake thought to himself. He turned and Meredith saw a different man. It was more than just compassion she saw. There was a deep empathy welling up from him that etched itself into his expression. And something else she couldn’t easily identify. Longing maybe. She started to second-guess herself remembering Veronica’s words about abuse.
“Okay,” he said reluctantly. “Come by this afternoon when he gets home.”
*************
They sat inside Jake’s uncluttered kitchen at the table. Andrew was staring down, clearly embarrassed at being dragged to the weirdo across the street.
“What’s the problem,” said Jake.
“He struggles a lot with…” Jake raised his left hand silencing her.
“No not you Mrs. Johnson. I want to hear what Andrew thinks the problem is.” Andrew sat eyes still plastered to the top of the table. “Eyes up son. I can’t teach the side of your head. What’s the problem?”
“You mean aside from me not wanting to be here with you,” the boy spat out angrily.
“Yes,” said Jake unfazed, “aside from that, and get your eyes off the top of my old Formica table. Either look at me while you’re talking or head to the door. Your choice.”
Meredith’s eyes widened, dread building. “Oh my God, Veronica was right.” She stood to leave. “Andrew, I think we should be going.”
“Okay,” Jake replied calmly. He sat back and folded his arms across his chest.
Andrew tore his gaze from the table to glare at his mother. “You wanted me to come here. Now you want to leave. Make up your mind Mom.” The o was dragged out to emphasize his frustration.
A long silence ensued with Meredith clearly undecided whether to stay or go. Jake broke in. “You have trouble with math your mom says.”
Andrew fell back in love with the Formica. Meredith took a breath to speak, but a small, almost imperceptible shake of Jake’s head stopped her.
“I just hate it”, Andrew said with suppressed anger.
“Why?” replied the weirdo.
“It’s confusing crap that doesn’t matter a hill of beans to anyone except the teacher.”
“Hmmm. What course are you taking right now?”
“Algebra”, the boy said dragging the word out to express his disdain for it. “We’re handed stupid equations and asked to solve for Y. Who cares!” The boy raised his voice almost to a shout.
“Andrew”, Meredith said low and quick.
Too late, Andrew’s fuse was lit. “Nobody cares jack about Y”, he went on fuming. “But if that weren’t stupid enough, X is on the other side of the equation, and you don’t know that either. Y doesn’t mean anything. X doesn’t mean anything. The whole equation doesn’t mean anything, but we’re supposed to spend hours doing 20 problems of this nonsense for no other reason but to let the teacher grade the stupid thing.”
“Andrew John!,” Meredith said. “Hold your tongue.”
Jake sat apparently unmoved by his rant. “Okay. Forget math, what do you like to do,” he replied.
“What,” said the boy clearly perplexed.
“Your ears tuned to the tabletop as well, ” said Jake. “I said what do you like to do?”
“What does that have to do with algebra?” said Andrew now meeting Jake’s gaze with an exasperated look.
“I didn’t say it had anything to do with algebra, but it might. So, what do you like to do?”
Andrew shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I like to play video games.”
“What kind?”
“Mostly online with other people,” the boy said still puzzled.
“Do you play differently depending on who’s online with you?”
“Oh yeah,” he responded, warming to the line of questioning.
Meredith finally sat down, glad the awkwardness was easing, but despondent that those dumb video games were now going to be part of this tutoring.
“Some people are new, and I can take more risks when they’re in the game. The more veteran players? I have to be more careful with them. Those guys will cut you up if you make even the slightest mistake.”
Jake said, “So you play the game one way when your opponents are inexperienced and another when they are experienced. True?”
“Yea man. Guessing what the other person is like is half the fun,” Andrew replied grinning despite himself as he recalled his most recent exploits.
Jake summarized a second time. “So if you know how your opponent is going to play, then you know how you are going to play. True again?”
“You got it.”
“OK, what if Y in in an algebra equation were your opponent and you were X. If you knew how Y was going to play……,” Jake tilted his head just a bit and waited.
Andrew finished the sentence, smirking as the analogy hit him. “Then I would know what X was. I would know how to play”, he said sarcastically. “Very nice Professor.”
“Indeed,” said Jake. “Just give Y a value. A player experience level so to speak and solve for X. Then you can always predict other Ys.”
“So, you think you’ve solved my problem, huh?” said Andrew. His face revealing his disdain for algebra was as strong as ever.
“No,” replied the teacher. “But it’s a start.”
***********
About a half-hour after the tutoring session ended Meredith returned. Jake opened the door in response to her knock and smiled at her. It had been one of the happiest afternoons he had in 20 years.
“You have to tell me what happened at the school,” she said abruptly. “I need to know. I can’t send him over here, even as good as you are, until I know it’s safe. Please Jake.”
His smile vanished. “Didn’t the townspeople tell you when you moved in?”
“Yes,” she said. “But just that something bad happened and you were let go. I want to hear from you because I think you can help Andrew, and I’m having trouble believing it was your fault. It’s just.” She paused. “Your face in the yard today…”. She let the thought die. “I don’t know, something’s not adding up, and for Andrew’s sake, I want to get to the bottom of it.”
He turned away from her leaving the door open and sat back down at the kitchen table. This time it was Jake’s eyes on the Formica as Meredith joined him.
“What do you know,” he asked.
“That you used to be a teacher in some other state. Something bad happened and you were fired or quit. Most people think you did something bad.”
“I did.”
“Okay, what was it?” the mother asked hopeful that it would be a whole lot of nothing.
“I killed a boy.”
Meredith’s eyes blinked and her mouth hung open a bit. “Why aren’t you in prison?”, she blurted out.
“I didn’t…”, he stopped abruptly. “Look I’m sure you can find another tutor for Andrew. The school no doubt has a list.” He stood to take her to the door.
“Sit down Jake. Why aren’t you in prison?”
“I don’t want to talk about this with you or anyone. It happened a long time ago, and I just want to forget. Find Andrew someone else.”
Meredith couldn’t explain not running away except maybe the look in his eyes when she begged for help in his front yard. It was not the look of a killer. For whatever reason she thought this man needed her. She reached her hand up and put it on his forearm.
“Please, I need to know.” Her small gesture of kindness forced a tear down his face. He quickly wiped it away and sat.
“30 years ago, a deranged, evil man came into the school with a gun. He shot the staff at the front desk and headed down the hallway to the classrooms. We all heard the gunfire, and the teachers moved their kids away from the door, hiding them from plain view. There were 30 kids in my classroom, Meredith. 30 of them.”
Jake started to rub his hands together nervously rocking back and forth in his seat.
“He opened my door with his gun raised and motioned me over. I wish so much that he shot me dead that day. He was evil, Meredith. Normal people don’t understand or know what it’s like to look in the face of evil. He asked me if I wanted to protect them. I told him I would do anything to protect the kids, anything. He smiled and said OK teacher, you pick the one of them to die and I’ll spare the rest.”
Meredith’s hands were clasped over her mouth as the shock of the story washed over her. It was nothing like she could’ve imagined.
“I gave him a child,” he choked out, tears rolling down his face. The confident teacher of a few hours ago leaned forward and wept bitterly. Racking sobs as if the whole thing happened yesterday.
“How could you possibly decide,” Meredith asked so engrossed in the story she forgot the broken man telling it. “Whose child did you give him?”
His crying was now unleashed. He wept uncontrollably for at least a minute or two. The kind of wailing you sometimes hear when people learn their wife was killed in an accident or their child died in a swimming pool. As the emotion eased, he stood, walked across the kitchen, and grabbed a paper towel. He uttered a single word completely shocking Meredith.
“Mine.”
“Oh my God, Jake! How could you?
He broke down again leaning against the sink face buried into the paper towel. Meredith’s own eyes filled with tears as the enormity of his actions gripped her. My God the guilt he must feel. Jake regained his composure with a sigh. It appeared the emotion was now over.
“Because I know how people think and respond, Meredith, it’s what makes me a good teacher. I knew that I could not pass that pain off to another. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. My son and I had to be the ones.”
Tears continued to trickle down his face and he wiped them with a new towel.
“He shot him in the hallway. I chased out after him hoping he would either shoot me too or I could stop him from hurting anyone else. But the police had already ended it just a few seconds too late for my boy.”
Meredith had been leaning forward intently listening and now rocked back into her chair her hands dropping from her face, clearly emotionally exhausted by this tale. Jake collected himself and tossed the paper towel toward the trashcan. He sat down again spent.
“That’s it Meredith. That’s what happened.” Jake paused, stood and tugged at Meredith’s chair. A clear indication it was time for her to go. “Look, I’ll understand if you don’t send Andrew back, and I wish you and he all the best. You’ll find another tutor that can help, I’m sure of it.”
As Meredith closed the door finally leaving him in peace, she delivered the classic mother line. “We’ll see.”
*******************
It is so easy for us to accept God’s gift and know we are saved. How often though do we pause to think of the cost to Christ’s father. Theologians sometimes argue suffering is not a possibility for God who is perfect in every regard. Perfection does not comport with suffering. Others argue that God does suffer.
I choose to believe the later because many Old Testament texts overtly present God’s emotions. If you agree, I hope the story of Jake, Andrew and Meredith illustrates that God paid an enormous price to bring us home. Jake’s pain was permanent. Is God’s? Although Jesus is now healed, resurrected and with the Father, I wonder if the pain remains for God who gave his son up to suffering on our behalf.
My heart tells me yes, and reason tells me much more. Knowing everything across all of eternity, God has lived with the pain of his son’s brutal suffering forever. How much greater should our gratitude be knowing this? We are forever forgiven brothers and sisters. I wonder if side-by-side with the joy God feels in saving his people is the exquisite pain of what it cost. I so much want to live my life in a way showing my gratitude for the outcome and cost of the gift. I hope you do too. May God bless you in your Christian journey this and every day.
Dave
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