God Only Knows (13 page)

“I think we already have our answer, Lyle,” Jake said. “Am I right, Maxwell? You’re dating” —the pastor gulped, apparently
needing to gather strength to speak the words —“you’re dating Julia Turner?” Even coming from Jake, it sounded more like a
taunt than an honest question.

“Huh?” Lyle crossed his arms, tapping a foot anxiously. “Now, there’s an idea I didn’t see coming. You’re dating
Julia
?”

Maxwell felt his forehead crease as he pivoted and bore a stare into Lyle’s humored gaze. “Why would that be a great mystery?”
Ever since Nia had come into his life, Maxwell’s sensitivity to the way American culture judged black women’s beauty had spiked.
Sure, he had shielded his twin sisters from a few white boys’ cracks early on in their childhood, but the girls had always
looked to their father for ultimate protection. As a grown man, though, Maxwell was increasingly determined not to repeat
his youthful endorsement of the idea that when it came to beauty: “White was right.”

Lyle’s stance stiffened as Maxwell stared him down. “There something you need to tell me, man? All I did was ask a question,
now you’re looking like you want to throw down.”

“Have you even
seen
Julia Turner in recent years?” Maxwell asked, letting the heat in his eyes recede. “She’s a beautiful woman. There’s no reason
to act like she’s some mud duck no man could find attractive.”

Lyle frowned. “When did I call her a ‘mud duck,’ Maxwell?”

“You didn’t have to, it was written all over your face. Why don’t you act like a man who loves his own race? Just because
she’s not Halle Berry’s twin, she’s not worthy?”

Lyle shot a long arm out, a hand ensnaring Maxwell by the shoulder. “Hey, just who are you trying to take to school —” Something
caught in his peripheral view and he suddenly released his friend. “Oh, shoot.”

“Dr. Simon!” Edna Whitlock-Walker-Morrison waved eagerly from her spot behind one of the concession stand’s cash registers.
Maxwell quickly realized her presence made sense. Her grandson played soccer in this league, and Edna had mentioned that due
to her son Pete’s demanding schedule as a police detective, she took his place working the stand at least once a month.

Happy to escape his heated conversation, Maxwell stepped up to Edna’s register. “Good afternoon, ma’am,” he said. “Your boy’s
team win today?”

“They kicked some butt, did Grandma proud,” Edna replied, eyes twinkling. She smiled at Maxwell, though he noticed her eyes
searching to his left and right, a sense of recognition filling them. “I know you come to see your friend’s boy play sometimes.”
Her eyes swung toward Jake and Lyle. “Aren’t these two some of your and Eddie’s old classmates?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jake replied, stepping to the counter and extending a hand. “Pastor Jake Campbell, Bread of Life Church. We’ve
met a few times over the years.”

In a flash, Lyle was on Maxwell’s left, his hand extended as well. “Mrs. Morrison, Lyle Sharp.” He nodded toward his friends.
“You look good, ma’am. May I just say, your faith is a real inspiration.” Laying a hand to Maxwell’s shoulder, he continued.
“The good doctor has shared your testimony. I must say you are a walking example of God’s grace amidst trials.”

A whisper from Maxwell, out the side of his mouth, as Jake ordered a tray of nachos from Edna: “Lay off it.” Lyle’s ability
to spin bull was admirable in a few settings —a tense courtroom or a club filled with beautiful women, for example —but to
see it used on Edna made Maxwell feel dirty. In truth, Lyle had been second only to Forrest in criticizing his decision to
hire Eddie Walker’s mother as his office manager. What had his exact words been? “You don’t know what type of grudges she’s
harboring, man. She may tell people in the community what they want to hear —that she’s at peace never knowing whether someone
played a role in Eddie’s incapacitation —but you know she must look at all of us who were there that night with suspicion.”

Once his friends had paid for their food and moved along, Maxwell slid aside for the next person in line. “I’ll see you Monday
then, Edna.”

“Okay, Doctor,” she replied, taking a $5 bill from the next customer before turning toward Maxwell. “Would you mind, though,
if I called you tomorrow about something?”

Maxwell shook his head, hands raised in self-defense. He had a sense what this was about. “Edna, Bruce and I are meeting with
a new round of donors tomorrow for brunch. I promise, we will find a way to keep the clinic doors open. Your employment is
secure.” He didn’t know how long his promise was good for, but all Maxwell had left at this point was blind faith.

“I trust you, honey, really.” Edna handed her change to the customer, then sighed when she realized her line had evaporated.
“Can you lean in a little bit?”

Maxwell humored her, his chin hovering over Edna’s soda fountain. “What’s the concern then?”

“It’s my son —my other son, I mean, Pete. He’s not acting like himself, Doctor. It’s a long story and I can explain, but I
really would like if you would talk to him.”

Maxwell narrowed his eyes despite himself, a feeling of dread chilling his veins. “What do you mean?”

“I pray I’m wrong,” Edna whispered, “but I think it’s about Eddie.”

T
he plane ride back from New York felt several hours longer than the ride in. For nearly the first hour, Cassie and Julia let
a tense silence dominate. Julia flipped through several educational journals, while Cassie used her BlackBerry to update some
analysis on her agency’s highest-priority properties. The only real communication the entire stretch was just after the plane
hit a sudden air pocket that shook the cabin.

“Thank you, Jesus,” Julia whispered loud enough for her friend’s benefit when things settled down. “I could use an easy way
out of all this, but that’s not quite what I had in mind.” She was pleasantly surprised to hear Cassie break out in a light
titter.

“Well, we can’t avoid it forever,” Cassie finally said when she had completed her property review. “Could that have possibly
gone any worse?”

“Sure,” Julia replied in a deadpan tone, “we could have gotten so tired of Toya’s attitude that we left her in the same shape
as Eddie.” She pinched herself for that one. “Forgive me, Lord.”

Cassie hugged herself, trying to believe just how varied all four women’s recollections of the night in question were. She
tried to summarize each one in her mind now.

• • •

Cassie’s own general summary began with the one agreed-upon fact. Eddie had come to Cassie as she stood munching a hot dog
at the postgame bonfire. “I found a stray dog over there,” he had said, a convincingly hurt look on his face as he pointed
a hundred yards away toward the forested area flanking the Christian Light soccer stadium. “He’s a little cocker spaniel.
Can you help me lift him, get him out here, so when my big brother comes, we can take him home?”

Cassie had been confused as to why the boy would ask her instead of one of the male teachers or coaches. Eddie’s urgent concern
had distracted her from the inner alarm that she now assumed she had failed to hear. With the bonfire crowd dying down, and
most families and staff heading toward their cars, Cassie had taken pity on the loner. She figured she could help Eddie and
be back before her stepfather arrived.

Everything in Cassie’s memory shifted into fast-forward from there. Following Eddie into a clearing in the woods, where he
suddenly turned and pulled her close. “I really like you, Cassie,” he said. When he swooped close for a kiss, she had slapped
him, out of shock. Apparently just as shocked, Eddie slapped her with an open hand. In another blink, he had wrestled her
to the ground, tore open her jacket, and planted his hands atop her cheerleader sweater.

In Cassie’s recollection, this was when the other girls showed up. With Eddie’s hand on her throat, she had looked up at the
sudden rustling of bushes to see Toya, Terry, and Julia, like three chocolate-covered Amazon beauties, emerge from the night’s
growing shadows. Their movements were urgent, their stances were defiant, and as they encircled her and Eddie, Cassie felt
she had already been saved.

Cassie had no memory of any words spoken during the entire encounter —by her or anyone else. Her next recall was the sudden
flash of Eddie’s knife, the unexpected terror filling the girls’ eyes as he brandished it and held her hostage. Maybe she
blacked out at the realization —because for Cassie, her next memory was of tables turned, of Toya pulling her to her feet
as Julia and Terry wrestled with Eddie. Then, a howl from the white boy that Cassie would never forget, a pained shriek that
took her years to wipe from recurring nightmares.

By comparison, the detailed nature of everyone else’s accounts had embarrassed Cassie. If only those had matched, at least.

In Julia’s version, Eddie had drawn the knife as soon as the girls told him to get away from Cassie, then pulled her to her
feet. “I’ll cut her throat open, try me,” he had insisted. Minutes passed, with the girls trying to reason with Eddie, insisting
that if he just walked away, they wouldn’t tell what had happened. Meanwhile, the boy grew increasingly anxious and depressed.
“Oh, man,” he said once if he said it a hundred times, “my mom will kill me.”

Julia insisted Eddie’s mom never needed to find out, and kept up her pleas until deciding he was incapable of letting Cassie
go. In Julia’s recall, it was she who eventually lunged at the couple, grabbing Cassie by the shoulder with enough force to
tear the cheerleader away from Eddie’s grasp. In response Eddie swung out and caught Julia’s hand with his knife, a move just
reckless enough to embolden Toya and Terry, who both rushed the boy and helped Julia seize the weapon from his grasp. In Julia’s
memory, she had wound up on the ground beneath Eddie, his knee on her throat as Terry held his arms and he shouted one epithet
after another. “Kill you all!” The phrase sprayed from his mouth three, maybe four, times before Toya appeared at his side
with the knife.

“Let’s go” was what Julia recalled Toya saying. She poked the edge of the blade against Eddie’s neck until he removed his
knee from Julia’s neck. “Julia, help Cassie to her feet,” Toya said. “I have the knife, so let’s just go.”

Still struggling to hold Eddie still, Terry looked between Julia and Toya in confusion. “What do
I
do?”

“Just hold him,” Toya replied before flipping the knife over to Julia. “What’s that?”

Julia had followed Toya’s pointing finger to the sight of a chipped brick resting a few feet away in the short grass. Toya
had moved in long, quick strides, hefting the brick and returning to the circle, where the girls struggled to hold Eddie still.

“Let me go!” The boy strained forward, his head jutting toward Toya, though the other girls kept him from reaching her. “Let
me go, and maybe I’ll —”

That was the moment Toya, eyes cooling, raised the brick and slammed it against Eddie’s forehead. As his screams pierced the
air and the girls let him fall to he ground, Julia recalled Toya’s reply as they stared at her in shock. “Now he can’t chase
us!”

“Oh, no! Oh, no!” As they had sat around the restaurant table two hours earlier, Toya had broken protocol, interrupting before
Julia could complete her account. “I did not bash that boy’s head in without provocation. Are you out of your mind, Julia?
I grabbed the brick as insurance, to keep him away from us. I wasn’t going to use it without reason.

“It was when I turned to help you get Cassie to her feet, that she” — a finger jammed in Terry’s direction —“lost hold of
the boy and he charged me.” Toya’s eyes nearly bulged as she insistently searched their faces. “You all remember that, right?
He got his hand on me! Another second and he’d have bashed my head in with that brick!”

“You didn’t hurt him the most, Toya,” Terry said wearily. “I mean, you did get him good, but he kept cursing and coming at
us. If anything, that pissed him off so much, he was determined to get the knife back and cut us then. That’s why when he
rushed you, I hopped on his back and started doin’ anything I could to keep him down. I must have kicked him in the head ten
times.”

Julia had scratched her head in confusion. “Terry, didn’t you wind up with the knife last? How did that happen?”

“I —I took it from you and gave it to her, I recall that much,” Toya replied. “Even after we’d kicked and beaten Eddie’s head
in, I was convinced he was crazy. I knew we weren’t getting away from that confrontation easily. And I knew Terry well enough”
—a nervous glance toward her former best friend —“to know that she was on the same page. You were always tougher than me when
it counted, Lady T.”

“So nobody stabbed him?” The question had erupted from Cassie as if she were suddenly visited by the spirit of Detective Whitlock
himself. “I’m sorry, everybody, but I blacked out for most of this. The last clear memory I have of Eddie is that he was bleeding,
I think from his waist. That couldn’t have happened from his getting kicked and beaten in the head, could it?” Eerie silence
wrapped the women as Cassie’s words echoed inside each one’s head.

Patting her friend’s hand now as their plane sped them toward home, Julia had clearly gone back to that critical moment. “God
forgive me, Cassie. I think all I did today was open Pandora’s box,” she said. “It seems our respective memories are as worthless
as a three-dollar bill.”

“They’re all colored by self-preservation,” Cassie replied, her voice growing smaller with a sinking realization. She was
returning home without any of the solutions she had prayed for. “Julia, I wanted you to be right, the Lord knows I did, but
how do we go to the authorities with the truth, when all we’ve learned today is that there is no such thing?”

S
tepping in front of the podium, Maxwell turned toward the overhead screen and used his laser pointer to accentuate the major
closing points on his slide. “To wrap up, the Christian Light Board of Advisors has made enormous progress in our first six
weeks of existence. On our three most crucial metrics —fund-raising, volunteers, and in-kind donations from local community
suppliers and vendors —we are already ahead of plan.