Chasing Sunsets (21 page)

AS THEY LEFT
the hospital, Marcus and Tyler were quiet. They didn’t talk until they were outside in the parking lot. The whole time Marcus thought about Twitter. All of Los Angeles knew he’d been shot at. The
Times
had run the news on the front page. So everyone who followed him on Twitter would’ve already heard that he’d been a victim of gang violence in his attempt to make the youth center a success.

Why hadn’t he asked anyone to pray for Jalen?

“I have an idea.” Marcus pulled out his phone. “You still on Twitter?”

“Yeah.” Tyler hadn’t started the car yet. He found his phone in his front pocket and looked at it. “I haven’t used social media since I came here.”

“Maybe now’s the time to start.” He opened his Twitter app. “You got a hundred forty characters to ask everyone listening to pray for Jalen. Let’s do this.”

Marcus’s tweet was simple.

There’s a little boy fighting for his life in an LA hospital. He took the bullet intended for me. Ask God for a miracle. #prayforJalen

Marcus reread his words and then looked out the window.
Lord, forgive me for not thinking of asking them sooner. I’m new at this. And please . . . help Jalen. He needs You more than ever, God.

He sent the tweet and looked at Tyler. “Done.”

“Me, too.” Tyler slipped his phone back in his pocket. “Let’s see what happens.”

THEY WENT TO
In-N-Out across the street for burgers and talked a little more about Jalen and Shamika and the youth center. And whether they were in over their heads.

Marcus thought maybe they were.

Halfway through the meal Marcus checked his Twitter. “This is crazy!” He couldn’t believe it. “Almost a hundred thousand people have retweeted it. And it’s only been twenty minutes.”

Tyler checked his and found a similarly high number of retweets. Marcus stared at his phone and blinked back tears. The gesture meant more than any of his followers could’ve known. Reading their comments, Marcus could see some of them were doing more than simply retweeting. They promised to pray. At a time when violence seemed the norm and kids didn’t seem to care about each other, clearly there were some who actually did.

It was a surge of hope Marcus needed—especially since he needed to go by the youth center later and see how things were going. He’d hired a full-time director a week ago, and today the guy had reported that things were calm.

Marcus wanted more than calm, of course. But in light of the events this week calm was an improvement.

As they walked to their separate vehicles, Tyler gave him a light punch in the arm. “You’re going with me tomorrow morning. To the beach.” He slid his phone back in his pocket. “No excuses.”

He still lived with Tyler, so it’d be easy to go. But Marcus wasn’t sure. “Someone should ask Mary Catherine.”

“Sami said she’d be fine.” Tyler held up his hands. “Really, man? You’re letting the girl intimidate you.”

“We’ll see.” Marcus tossed his keys in his hands. “I’ll think about it.”

“We’re all friends.” He pointed at Marcus. “See you at nine tomorrow.”

The discussion was over.

Marcus drove to the youth center, and the whole way he debated whether he should go. He thought about Mary Catherine all the time and found himself counting down the hours
till the next time they would see each other. But going with Tyler to the beach felt a little intrusive. Mary Catherine hadn’t invited him, no matter what she told Sami.

He tried to put the thought from his mind. At the center he checked in with the new director. The report was mostly good. Kids were still coming for help with their homework, still showing up to play basketball every night around seven. Lots of them had asked if there would be pizza again this Tuesday.

“You’d think the shooting would keep them away.” Marcus still didn’t understand life on the streets.

“It has no effect at all.” The director used to be a football coach at an area high school. He was perfect to manage the youth center. “These kids think nothing of a shooting. Very different from the way you and I might see it.”

The futility stayed with Marcus as he left. He planned on going home and getting in another workout before turning in for the night. But there were too many thoughts battling for his attention.

Instead he drove to Dodger Stadium.

Spring training was coming fast. A couple of months at Camelback Ranch in Arizona, and then they’d be in full swing for the season. He was on the roster as their top pitcher again, so his time with Mary Catherine would be infrequent at best.

The stadium was empty, the way he expected for a Thursday night in early January. Marcus used his key to get into the back of the facility and then found a spot near the top of the bleachers. The sun was setting, spreading pink and blue across the sky.

Something about being here always helped him think.
Helped him get his priorities right. He’d been reading his Bible now—ever since the walk with Mary Catherine. He’d bought the e-reader version of the Voice Bible—a new translation designed for people like him. People who had no real experience with Scripture. He could read it any time he wanted right on his phone.

This morning he’d read the book of James.

Don’t just be hearers of the Word of God. Be doers.
The message stayed with him still.

The first chapter was the reason he’d asked Tyler to go with him to give blood today. It wasn’t enough to wish people well and offer a quick prayer. God’s people needed to act. Matthew West had a song about it. “Do Something.”

He rested his forearms on his thighs and stared out at the stadium. His surface wound from the bullet was healing. One day soon the place would be packed, people cheering on his team, screaming his name. But what did they know of Marcus Dillinger? Sure, he was clean-cut. He stayed away from drugs and drinking and he’d given a bunch of money to open a youth center for kids in the inner city.

But what about his faith?

The question had plagued Marcus many nights, even since he’d known for sure that God was working in his life, that God had answered his challenge back in October. Okay, so he believed. So he did a few good things for the community—if they actually were good.

Did that mean he was a Christian?

Marcus breathed in sharply through his nose and sat up straighter.
God, I’m here . . . What do You want from me?

No answer whispered across his heart. But another Bible
verse came to mind. The one he’d read yesterday in Romans, chapter ten. He pulled out his phone and read it again.
Romans 10:9—So if you believe deep in your heart that God raised Jesus from the pit of death and if you voice your allegiance by confessing the truth that “Jesus is Lord,” then you will be saved!

He had heard people pray for salvation before, but sitting here, the winter breeze cool against his face, Marcus wasn’t sure he’d ever actually done that. He’d attended house church at the Waynes’ week after week. But even though he appreciated the stories and the teaching, he’d never made the message personal.

Never made that sort of a deal with Jesus.

Marcus lifted his eyes to the sky and like a parade, he could see all the girls. All the careless nights. The reason he could never stand before Mary Catherine as anything but her friend.
Lord, I know I already apologized for those times. For who I was back then. But where do I go from here? What happens now?
He thought about his anger toward the shooter, the futility and impatience that had consumed him most hours since Jalen had been shot.
I guess sin can be more than sleeping around. I’m sorry for my attitude, too.

Suddenly, there in the quiet of the empty stadium, he could feel the presence of God. Marcus did the most natural thing he could do. He lifted his hands toward heaven and prayed.

The verse from Romans played again in his mind. This time he spoke out loud. “Father, would You get rid of the filth in my heart, please? I believe in You.”

The cool breeze picked up speed, sending a low whistling sound through the stadium.

Marcus wasn’t finished. “From the depth of my heart, Jesus, I believe You are God and that You died on the cross and were raised to life for me.” His words were quiet but powerful. “I want You to be with me. I want to be saved. I am nothing without You. I mean it.” Marcus felt tears on his cheeks. “Even if I were the only person on earth You would’ve died anyway. So here’s my confession, Father. Jesus is Lord. Now and forever.”

He lowered his hands and dragged them across his cheeks. There was no describing the feeling inside him. He felt whole and clean and full of light. Of course he would mess up again. He could never be perfect. But at least now he had assurance. If the bullet hit him next time, he’d go from life on earth to life in heaven.

Because the Bible said so.

But there was something else. He’d learned last week at the Waynes’ that the Book of Acts talked about times when people got baptized. He spent the next half hour searching for the word
baptism
in his Voice Bible app. Every time, it seemed like people made the decision to get baptized after they decided to believe in Jesus for salvation.

Believe
and
be baptized. That’s what the Bible said.

He remembered the beach trip in the morning. Could he be baptized then? Would that even be possible? Without hesitating he called Coach Wayne. “Coach. It’s Marcus.”

“Hey!” The man sounded happy, the way he usually sounded. “I’ve been meaning to call you. How’s the little boy doing?”

“Still hanging in there. No change.” Marcus felt a ripple of discouragement. “His mother’s asking everyone to pray.”

“I saw that on Twitter. Almost a hundred and fifty thousand people have retweeted it. That’s incredible.”

That many? Gratitude filled his heart. Who knew where the request would go from here? But he’d done what Shamika had asked and now—with so little effort—people were praying. Marcus drew a breath and tried to focus. “I’m calling you for a couple of reasons.”

“Go ahead.” There was the sound of a closing door. “I just stepped outside. What’s on your mind?”

“First . . .” Marcus wasn’t even sure how to explain what had just happened. “I’m here at the stadium by myself. I just gave my life to Jesus. Like for the first time. For real.”

“Marcus! That’s amazing!” Deep emotion came across in Coach Wayne’s voice. “Rhonda and I have been praying for that. Actually, I was going to pull you aside this Sunday after church and ask you where you were at in your faith journey.”

“Now you know.” Marcus laughed. “I’ve been reading the Voice Bible. I love it. Everything’s so clear. Like God’s speaking straight to me.”

“Incredible, right?”

They talked a few more minutes about Scripture and how it was God’s Word. God-breathed. But there was more Marcus needed to talk to the man about. He tried to find the right words. “Coach . . . something else. About Shelly.”

“Yes.” His voice grew more pensive. “I was going to talk to you about her, too.”

Marcus stood and paced down the empty row and back. How was he supposed to say this? “I’m planning to talk to her
later tonight. It’s just not . . . it’s not working out with the two of us.” He paused. “I’m sorry, Coach, I really didn’t mean to get this involved and now . . . I’m just so sorry.”

For a moment there was only silence on the line. Marcus felt a pit in his stomach. Was his coach angry with him? If so, what could he do to make things right? He was about to offer another apology when he heard a light laugh coming from the man.

“I think you read me all wrong.” Coach Wayne sounded almost relieved. “I was going to warn you about her. She’s always been a little wild. Having her around more lately hasn’t been good for our own daughter.” He laughed again. “I was going to ask if you and Shelly would do your visiting outside of our home. Seriously.”

Relief washed over him. He’d worried about this for nothing. “She looks for trouble, that’s for sure.”

“She’s my niece, and I pray for her. One of these days something will get her attention and she’ll need more than her good looks to get by.” This time there was no denying the approval in Coach’s voice. “Good decision, Marcus. You don’t need that sort of distraction.”

“Definitely not.” Marcus realized he’d been holding his breath. He exhaled and sat back down. “So I guess that’s two good choices tonight.”

“Yes.” His voice became more serious. “I know it won’t be easy, talking to Shelly. But she’ll understand. She’s had lots of boyfriends.”

“Thanks, Coach. There’s one more thing.” Marcus smiled. “If you’re not busy tomorrow around nine thirty, could you
meet us at Zuma Beach? Me and Tyler and Sami and Mary Catherine?”

“Sounds fun.” There was a smile in Coach Wayne’s voice. “Just because?”

“Because I want to get baptized. I wondered if you’d do the honors.”

Again there was silence for several seconds. Marcus could practically see the man’s face when he finally spoke. “It would be one of the greatest honors of my life, Marcus. Rhonda and I will be there. The kids, too.”

The call ended and Marcus stared at the sky, soaking in the love and joy and peace that surrounded him. Mary Catherine would want to be there for his baptism. So would the others. There would be no fanfare, no media, no fear of bullets flying.