The Final Adversary (38 page)

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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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“I also flunked out of school and became a prize-fighter for a time.” He looked over his audience, pleased that many evidenced discomfort, others anticipation. “But I want to set one thing straight. I am not the greatest missionary on this continent. Not even the greatest in this
room!

He paused for a moment. “You’ve heard that I killed a lion. Well, that sort of thing makes headlines, but it doesn’t make great missionaries. Tonight, I had no knowledge about this banquet. If I had, I’d probably be running right now. But I’m here, and you’re all interested in missions. So I’m going to tell you about some
real
missionaries!”

For the next hour he told them about the mission field, the men and women who worked, died, and were buried there. He was not eloquent, but he spoke from firsthand experience, and his words drew vivid pictures of what it was like. Many of his hearers
were
missionaries, and their heads nodded in agreement. “That’s right! That’s the way it was,” they would whisper to those nearby.

Much of his speech centered around Awful Gardner, beginning with their first meeting—in prison. Barney made the Rescue Mission come alive for the audience; and the Rankens, Del, and Katie wept as he told of the hundreds who came to Jesus under the influence of Gardner. Then he told of the heroic struggle Awful had endured in Africa, of his witness to Chief Batoni. “It wasn’t the killing of a lion that made the difference. It was the faithful witness of that man of God.”

He concluded by telling about Awful’s death. When he finished, there was not a dry eye in the house. “God bless all of you for coming,” he said. “But I want you to forget
me.
Remember those who’ve found lonely graves out there. And let’s bind ourselves together to get the gospel of Jesus Christ to every soul possible who hasn’t heard the Good News!”

He bowed his head and prayed a fervent prayer for the lost tribes and the missionaries who would go to them. Then he
raised his head. “Forgive me if I don’t stay to talk, but my parents are here.”

Somehow he maneuvered his family and friends out of the banquet room into a side room, shutting the door firmly. With a deep sigh of relief, he said, “Lock the door, Del.” But he was too late, for the Hansens had found them—followed by a corps of reporters.

“Let’s meet for breakfast,” Lola suggested.

“All right,” Barney replied.

“I don’t care if you don’t like me to say it,” she whispered in his ears. “But I was proud of you tonight! I’ll see you tomorrow. Good-night.”

Lola and Mark left Barney to the fate of the reporters—and Hansens—and went to their room. “Oh, Mark!” she cried. “I’m so happy!”

“Me, too, but poor Barney. Wait till he finds out what Andy’s got planned for him!”

Sure enough, the next day when Andy brought the subject up at breakfast, Barney set his jaw stubbornly.

“No, Andy, I’m
not
making any tour in America to raise support for missions!”

Mark let Andy argue for fifteen minutes before he interrupted. “Andy, can’t you see it’s useless? You’re wasting your time.”

Andy slumped down, defeated. “Well,” he asked, “what
are
you going to do, Barney?”

“I’m going back to preach to that old cannibal, Chief Batoni.”

“I give up!” Andy groaned. “Brother, you just have no
vision
at all!”

“Andy!” Lola remonstrated. “You have no right to say that. Barney doesn’t have
your
vision, but he’s caught God’s vision, His heart, for reaching those who may never hear the gospel. Already I have seen a tremendous growth in Barney’s spiritual life.” She paused, then went on. “I only wish I were younger.
I’d go in a minute, with Mark, of course.” She smiled, softening her words to Andy.

Andy nodded toward Barney. “Sorry for my outburst. Guess we see things differently. It’s just that I was looking forward to your working with me.”

“I appreciate that, and I want you to know how good it feels to have a family. But I
have
to do what God has called me to do, no matter what the cost.”

They dispersed then with a promise to meet at Mark and Lola’s hotel for supper.

All the original missionaries from the Rescue Mission had been invited. No banquet could compare with the rich time they had sharing God’s dealing in their individual lives.

Del, they discovered, was going to marry a young woman from Oklahoma.

“I didn’t know you were courting a girl from there, Del,” Katie said in surprise.

“Oh, I’ve never met her,” Del said. “But we’ve been writing. She’s on her way here to be a missionary, right here in Liberia.”

“When did you propose?” Barney asked.

“Well . . . I . . . I haven’t actually done that, but it’s just a matter of time!”

“Same old Del,” they laughed. “Slow and easygoing!”

The Rankens were opening up a new station, and it was easy to see that they were happy in their marriage.

“What about you, Katie?” Barney asked.

“Oh, I’m going back to start a school for Chief Batoni.” Barney stared at her. “Why, that’s where
I’m
going!” he said. And he smiled broadly. “Won’t it be wonderful, working together again!”

But it was not as simple as that. In the afternoon of the last day of the year, Katie was asked to meet with Reverend Hansen. When she arrived, she discovered Barney had also been invited. “What’s it about?” she asked. But Barney was in the dark as well.

The door opened, and Hansen walked in with Stanley Beecham. He was very glad to see them both, but said little.

Reverend Hansen began the discussion. “Well, now, we seem to have a problem here,” he said. “A personal problem, I suppose you might call it.”

He seemed a little flustered, so Beecham took over in his firm but gentle Welsh manner. “Myron and I seldom agree, but in this one instance I feel he is right. The two of you can’t go to the same village. It would create problems all the way around.”

“But I’ve already promised to start a school there! I can’t go back on my word!” Katie protested, her face flushed.

“And I promised Chief Batoni to be his missionary,” Barney added. “We’ve got to move quickly! This tribe is ripe for the gospel, and you know how those witch doctors can move in!”

There was a lively discussion for half an hour, and the longer it went on, the more determined each participant became.

By now Katie was almost in tears, but Barney remained undaunted. God had handled more difficult situations than this. There had to be a way.

“Of course, there is
one
solution . . .” Hansen left the sentence hanging.

Katie looked at him, perplexed, but Barney’s face lit up.

“Why, of course!” he said, turning to Katie. “What do you think? I mean, if we were married, there’d be no problem, would there?”

Beecham added a word of encouragement. “It would work out very well indeed, in my opinion.”

The three men waited.

Katie slowly got to her feet, her face pale, her eyes enormous. She glared at Barney, and with contempt dripping from her voice, said, “You’ve been around the villages too long. They
buy
a wife when they need someone to work, don’t they?” She whirled and raced out of the room, leaving Barney with his face flaming.

“Ahem,” Beecham said, clearing his throat. “Your idea didn’t go over too well, Myron.”

Hansen shrugged. “Guess you two will have to decide, Barney. Let us know who goes, who stays.”

Barney’s heart was heavy.
Who goes, who stays
echoed in his mind as the door closed behind the two men.
What a mess!
he thought and walked blindly out, pacing the street for several hours. When darkness fell, he returned to the mission station, still with no answer. For a long time he sat mulling over the predicament.

Suddenly like a bolt of lightning it hit him. “What a fool I am!”

He jumped from his chair and marched straight to Katie’s room and knocked on the door.

No answer. He knocked again.

“Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Barney.”

“Go away!”

“Open the door, Katie. I’ve got to talk to you!”

“No! Do you know what time it is?” she demanded, clutching her robe about her.

“I don’t care. Open the door or I’ll kick it down!”

He’s drunk! They mustn’t find him like that!
she thought. She slipped the bolt and opened the door.

He stood there for a moment, then said, “Let me come in. I’ve got to talk to you.”

“But—it’s two o’clock in the morning! You
can’t
come into my room at this hour!”

“Then you’ll have to come out!”

“I
can’t
—” Katie gasped, and stopped. He didn’t
seem
drunk. The moonlight coming through the window into the hall was bright enough to see his face. And his voice was clear.

“Katie, all that talk with Beecham and Hansen, it was wrong!”

“I don’t
want
to talk about it, Barney!” she said sharply.

He gazed at her silently. Her eyes sparkled with agitation.
How lovely she looked in the moonlight! Finally he said, “Do you remember the time I kissed you?”

“No!” She shook her head angrily, refusing to admit she remembered. “What do you
want
with me, Barney. I can’t stand out here all night!”

“I want to marry you,” he said softly.

“So you can go to Batoni’s village?”

“No,” he said, his eyes never leaving her face.

He made her so angry! “What do you mean
no?
Can’t you say
something?

“Katie, I want to marry you—because I love you.”

Struck silent by his words, her mouth dropped open.

Wasting no more time, he pulled Katie into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. “I’ve loved you for a long time,” he whispered as he kissed her again, gently. “I’m just slow. You
know
that, Katie.”

Katie’s limbs almost gave way under the emotional stress. Then she threw her arms around his neck and drew his head down. She kissed him slowly, cherishing the moment. When she raised her head, she murmured, “You know what?”

“What?”

She smiled through her tears. “I’ll expect a little more courting than this, Barney Winslow!”

“Oh, Katie! Katie! I love you so!” He pulled her close again, burying his face in her hair, so fragrant, fresh, clean. “I’ll bring you flowers every day! I’ll bring a band at night and serenade you! You’ll get sick of the sight of me!”

She laughed deep within her as she looked into his eyes. “I’ve loved you for so long! Now I’ll
really
have you!”

“Katie! You’ve always had me! I was just too dumb to realize it.” He smiled. “I just thought of something Del said. He found out three things: one, he didn’t love you; two, you didn’t love him.”

“He told me that too, but wouldn’t say what the third thing was.”

“I think I know.” He cradled her in his arms and murmured against her cheek, “That you and I love each other!”

“And always will, Barney!” she said with her heart in her eyes.

“Always . . . By the way, do you know what day this is?”

“Why, it’s Tuesday morning.”

“No, it’s the morning of a new century.”

“That’s right—it’s the first day of the year.”

“First day of the century,” he smiled. “January 1, 1900.” He stood there silently, then said, “It’s going to be a different kind of world, Katie. I’ve been thinking about what it’ll be like. And I’ve wondered what my ancestors would have thought of it.”

“I don’t guess they’d recognize it. Things change so fast.”

“The first Winslow wouldn’t. His name was Gilbert. He came over on the
Mayflower
in 1620.”

Barney grinned. “If you think
I
was a prodigal, you’ll have to hear about
him.
He fought duels with a sword, was a spy. But he got saved and became a great preacher.”

“He sounds very romantic, Barney.”

“Oh, all Winslow men are incurably romantic!” he said. “Let me prove it!”

A few moments passed, and then he laughed. “You see?” Katie’s eyes mirrored the happiness bursting within her. “A new century, and the House of Winslow will be a part of it! I want to have ten children and live to see all of them grow up to become preachers!”

“Whoa!” Barney cried. “One step at a time! But God’s brought the Winslows through the last two hundred years, so I expect He’ll have some use for us—whatever happens!”

The stars twinkled through the window as the prodigal and his love held each other. Soon the sun would lift itself in the east and shine on the first day of the new century, and the new century would begin.

GILBERT MORRIS spent ten years as a pastor before becoming Professor of English at Ouachita Baptist University in Arkansas and earning a Ph.D. at the University of Arkansas. During the summers of 1984 and 1985, he did postgraduate work at the University of London. A prolific writer, he has had over 25 scholarly articles and 200 poems published in various periodicals and over the past years has had more than 180 novels published. His family includes three grown children, and he and his wife live in Gulf Shores, Alabama.

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