From Pharaoh's Hand (3 page)

             
She had heard of girls getting in trouble like this. Their parents took them to have the baby aborted in Memphis or Nashville. They would be gone from school for a week or so, saying they had mono or the flu. But everyone talked just the same. Especially if the girl had told all her girlfriends she had been sleeping with her boyfriend. 
I’m glad I only told Crystal.  But who had Chris told?  Think Beth. Think.

             
That’s when she had decided she could go to Memphis on her own and get it done.  But she had just got her license, and driving in Jackson was nerve-wracking, much less driving in a big city like Memphis.
Who could I trust to take me?  I don’t want anyone to know.  Not even Crystal.  I could ride a Greyhound.  No, I can’t do that either.   I don’t want to go downtown by myself.  It’s dangerous in that part of town
.  Beth remembered burying her head in her hands and sobbing.  
Chris was right.  I am a baby.  A baby having a baby. 
She lay her head over on the cool ceramic countertop and tried to figure a way out of her predicament.
If I didn’t have to work Friday night, I could leave school early and ...hey wait. 

             
    That might work
, she had thought as she sat up. She saw the bus leaving almost every Friday evening when she got off her part-time job at Wal-mart.  Money wasn’t a problem. She had money she had been saving to get a new laptop.  Being gone overnight would be the problem. She would go to the clinic Saturday, get it done and be home by Saturday night.  She could ask Crystal to cover for her, and tell her that she would be at Chris’s. 
I’m going to have to lie to my very best friend.  Can I do that?  And will she believe me?  I don’t know if I can do this.   I have to.  I have no choice.  There’s no way out of this mess but to go through with it. 
It was going to be a long week of waiting and planning.
Maybe it was just a fluke,
she told herself.
I can’t be pregnant. You don’t get pregnant the first time ...Do you?

             
Well, Chris had been wrong about that, Beth had thought sadly as she had lain there on the hotel bed last night, in a cheap Memphis hotel room, desperate, despondent, and sick with the TV blaring.  She had not been paying much attention to the television, but soft, kind words began to break through. “Adrian Rogers, pastor of Bellevue Baptist,” the marquee at the bottom of the screen said. That was the huge church she had seen from the shuttle as they crossed the Interstate.  The tall crosses that lit the night sky had caught her attention. She could throw a rock and hit it from here.  Well, not quite.  But it was just across the field.  He had preached about faith:

             
“By faith Moses, when he was born, was hid three months of his parents, because they saw he was a proper child; and they were not afraid of the king's commandment,” he quoted. “The life we live on this earth is lived by faith. Through the grace of God we are saved. Ephesians
2:8-9 says: ‘For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God’. His love and mercy forgives us and cleanses us from all unrighteousness.”

             
Elizabeth had watched the entire sermon mesmerized by the love that was coming from his eyes as he gave the most stirring message she had ever heard.  Her hometown Jackson was smack dab in the middle of the Bible Belt, and they were faithful worshipers at West Jackson Baptist Church. She had even made that walk down the aisle when she was twelve and became baptized in water the very next Sunday. That seemed so long ago.
How have I strayed so far from being that girl?

     “
There is no sin that cannot be forgiven, except the unpardonable sin of turning your back on the Holy Spirit. As long as you walk by faith, like Moses, as long as you remain pliable in the Master’s hands, and repentant, there is hope for you, my friend.” He paused for effect. “Do not turn away from the Spirit’s call, for we are not guaranteed tomorrow.”  She knew there was truth in what this man of God was saying. She knew that she had done wrong. This was the consequence of her sin. She wanted forgiveness. She wanted mercy. She wanted to go back to when she was twelve and unmarred by life and naive about worldly temptation. But there was no going back. She had wrapped her arms around her belly and squeezed, weeping and convulsing in wrenching waves. She could not kill this innocent life inside her.
I can’t go through with it. There’s got to be a way out.
She would ride the bus back to Jackson. She would find Crystal, and they would make a plan. She would tell her parents.
But will they ever forgive me? Can they?

     
Beth had lain for what seemed like hours pondering the question, and finally, around 4 a.m., she had succumbed to her exhaustion and slept, tossing with dreadful dreams. In front of her loomed the mummy of a long dead Pharaoh.  He was moaning for her to turn back. Turn back. But even as she turned, she faced the horrible jaws of an angry alligator, waiting to devour her whole as she slipped and slid and fell, scrambling to find her parents in the dense fog hovering over the treacherous banks of a very muddy Nile.

Chapter 3

Missing

“And they were grieved because of the Children of Israel...” Exodus 1:12

             
John Merriweather sat at his breakfast table in black sweat pants, t-shirt, and well-worn slippers, drinking his first cup of Folgers and reading the headlines from
The Jackson Sun,
as was his usual Saturday morning habit.  He worked over sixty hours a week as the CFO of a large manufacturing plant on the east side, and so on Saturdays he liked to wind down.  A plate of half-eaten pancakes and sausage links rested before him growing colder by the minute, while at his feet, his beloved Setter, Angel begged for a bite of the syrupy remains. Carolyn Merriweather stood at the sink, rinsing her plate and remarking what a mild day it was for January.  She was tall and graceful, and her blonde hair was beautifully coiffed from the morning’s trip to the salon.  The crocus would appear before long if it kept this up, she remarked.  John was too engrossed in the feature story to answer her.

             
“Are you even listening to me, John?”

             
              “Uh-huh, heard every word.”

             
“What did I say then?”

             
              “You said, ‘The crocus are going to come up too soon this year.’”

             
“Ok. So you were listening. Anything good in the paper this morning?”

             
              “The King Tut exhibit got robbed last night in Memphis. They got away with several pieces. I can’t imagine who would want them. Wouldn’t it be hard to sell artifacts?”

             
“Maybe they want them for themselves.”

             
              “Or maybe the thieves were paid a pretty penny to obtain them for someone’s collection. You can bet they won’t surface any time soon. Unless the cops get a break on the case pretty quick. Would you get me some more coffee?”

             
“Does it say how they did it?”

             
              “Actually, it’s quite the mystery. There were guards on duty all night. No one saw or heard anything. The curator of the exhibit found the display case empty this morning and reported the theft.”

             
              “May be an inside job then,” Carolyn answered as she set his steaming cup before him.

             
“Someone must have wanted them awful bad.”

             
              “What were they worth?”

             
“I’m guessing no one really knows. Quite priceless I’m sure--five solid gold rings with royal insignias embossed on them inside a small treasure chest and a five-pound golden idol.” John remarked as he passed Angel a sausage link.

“
Says here that one of the rings was actually found on King Tut’s mummy, on the middle finger of his left hand. ‘The bezel is engraved with a figure of the king kneeling and holding in his outstretched hands an image of the goddess Maat, who is seated overshadowed by a protecting falcon,’” he read. “And then it goes on to describe the other items.”

             
“That’s interesting.  Maybe we should go see that exhibit, that is, if they keep it open after this.”

     “
Yeah, we’ll plan that up.  What do you have on your mind for today? The house is so quiet without Beth here.”

             
“Just gonna putter around the house a bit. Thought we might take in a movie tonight at the new theater if she’s not too tired from her slumber party.”

     “
Bet she will go straight to bed. But I wouldn’t mind seeing “Rumor Has It.”

             
“Chick flick.”

             
The doorbell interrupted Carolyn before she could defend her choice. They looked at each other in surprise. It was only 9:30 a.m., and  Saturdays in the Merriweather household were generally subdued.  Carolyn did her grocery shopping in the afternoons or browsed the bookstores and Bed Bath and Beyond for bargains. John liked to check out the power tools at Home Depot or prowl around at Buck & Bass. Most often, he liked to stay at home and play with his woodworking tools in the garage.  Beth would sleep until noon, then go out with her friends, or get her nails done at the mall.  Rarely did they entertain even the neighbors before 11 a.m. on Saturdays, unless John was going hunting.

             
“You get it honey. I need to finish here.”

             
              John laughed. “Yes, but your hair sure is pretty, don’t you want to show it off?” he teased.  “It’s probably just the paper boy collecting.”

             
John was only a bit surprised to find that it was Chris. He was dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt, and his football jacket.

             
“I’m sorry, Mr. John, did I wake you?”

     “
Oh no, not at all. We’re just a bit lazy on Saturdays, Chris. Beth’s not here. She spent the night at Crystal’s.”

             
“Oh. Well, ok. She didn’t call me last night when she got off work. “

     “
Maybe she just needed a girls’ night. She’ll be home this afternoon sometime, I’m sure.”

             
“Thanks, Mr. John.”

     “
Uh-huh. See ya later.”

             
Chris dialed his cell phone before he ever reached his car. He thought Beth might want to spend the day with him, but after several tries, it was obvious she was avoiding him for some reason. It irritated him that she had not called last night.  He would have understood. He got the voice mail. Her phone was turned off. He left a message for her to call him and then dialed another number.  The phone rang twice before Crystal’s mother answered.

     “
Hi, Mrs. Barnes. This is Chris Daily, Beth’s boyfriend. May I speak to her a moment, please.”

             
“Oh hello, Chris.  Beth’s not here. Is she supposed to be?”

     “
I guess I misunderstood. Is Crystal home?”

             
“Sure. Hold on. I’ll get her.”

             
Where in the world was she? This did not make any sense.

             
“Hello.”

     “
Crystal. This is Chris. Do you know where Beth is?”

             
“Um...no...um... I thought she was with you.”

     “
I haven’t seen her since school yesterday.”

             
Crystal’s mind raced. “Well, if she’s not with you, then where is she?”
                            “Her father said she spent the night with you.”
              “She just told them that because she was spending the night with you, though. That’s what she told me.”

             
              “What? Why would she do that?”

             
“I don’t know. She said she wanted to be with you. What do we do now? I don’t want to get her in trouble.”

             
              Look, Crystal. She wasn’t with me. She wasn’t with you. Something’s wrong. Someone has to find out where she is.”
              “Stay there. I’m coming over. We’ll talk to them together. That way, Beth can blame both of us.”

             
              Good idea.”