Head Over Heels (5 page)

“Yes. It's meant to be a place for them to go after school. We also run on Friday evenings, so they won't get into trouble.”

“You come here Friday night, too?”

“Yes. We try to get volunteers to help, but most of the time it's just me. I wish we could run the center on Saturday, but I just can't do it all by myself and we can't get enough people to commit. The Sunday school uses
this room on Sunday morning, but when the service is over, I open it up for the youths for an hour. That's the only time they're allowed to play online games here. I picked Sunday because they have to respect the Sabbath and not play violent games or those that encourage illegal activities on Sundays in God's house.” She grinned. “It's worked so far.”

“You're here six days a week?”

“Yes. I feel this is important, so, as they say, I put my money where my mouth is.”

She thought he was going to tell her she spent too much time at the center, and she was ready to give him a strong rebuttal. If Marielle read Russ right, all he did was work. At least what she chose to spend her free time doing was to benefit others.

But after a few seconds of silence, he said, “I'll be back tomorrow then, at three o'clock.”

He walked with her to the door, and after they exited, waited while she locked up. They made their way to the cars, and without saying anything else, he flicked the remote lock for his SUV, removed the bar and drove away rather fast, Marielle thought, for being in a parking lot.

As the taillights disappeared around the corner, Marielle couldn't help but wonder what had happened that Russ figured he didn't have any more miracles left.

 

The next afternoon Russ pulled into the parking lot right on schedule. Marielle's car, dented roof and all, was already there, along with another older model sedan that had seen better days. He applied and locked the bar
on the steering wheel, slid out, hit the remote switch to arm the alarm system, then walked toward the building.

Church or not, he'd seen too many buildings like this when growing up—it was both old and run-down—and he didn't ever want to see another one, unless it was on a heritage Web site he was designing for a client.

This would have been his last choice, hands down, of any place he wanted to be. He'd almost told his boss that he really was going to take his doctor's advice, lie down and not leave the house for a couple of days.

But Russ had given his word that he would get the computers set up, and Grant had given his word as the corporate sponsor that the job would be completed. Russ was obligated. A man was only as good as his word, and he'd given it. Besides, he had yet another debt to pay, and God would have him make good on it.

So here he was, the third day in a row.

On the third day, He rose, according to the Scriptures.

The words echoed in his head. Russ had heard that statement over and over when he was growing up, when his mother had dragged him to church. He'd believed it then, and he still did. Except now, Russ could look at it more realistically.

He glanced up at the tarnished steeple. God was out there, all right, but God had only made a difference in his life once, and he'd been paying for it ever since.

He knew all about trusting God and His miracles. Since then, Russ had grown a little older and a whole lot wiser.

Russ did all he could so he wouldn't ever have to pay again, and until his recent incident at the window, he'd
had everything under control. For the past few years he'd been able to move forward with his life without owing anyone, including God. He'd worked, and he'd worked hard, and he was successful.

When he walked into the basement meeting room, he found Marielle sorting stacks of colored paper into piles, each accompanied by a ruler and a few miscellaneous pieces of white paper already cut into odd shapes. She made quite a comical picture, like she was getting ready for little kids, not a group of rough and rowdy teens.

He scanned the vacant computers, then looked back at Marielle. “What in the world are you doing?”

“I got a call from a friend who leads the Sunday school. The preschool level teacher was called away on a family emergency and they need someone to take over Sunday's class. I'm going to ask one of the girls to help me, but first we need to cut out a bunch of shapes so the kids can glue them together. They're too small to cut things accurately, and I'm not sure how good they are at gluing, but I don't know what else to do.”

“You do this,” Russ said, extending one arm to encompass the youth center room, “and you're going to teach the preschool on Sunday, too?”

“It needs to be done and there's no one else, so we have to make do. How are you feeling today?”

“A little better. I can't believe how long I slept. It must be the medication. I don't usually sleep over six hours, especially not on a weekday. Here comes Jason—I'd better get started.”

But instead of joining him with the group at the computer, Jason sat with the girls who were cutting out colored shapes, guided by the white papers Marielle had already cut out, which Russ had figured out were templates.

Russ left what he was doing and joined the preschool table. The only chair available was in the center of a group of girls, so he stood behind Jason and rested one hand on Jason's shoulder. “How's it going, Jason?”

Jason turned and smiled up at him. “It would go better if you helped.” He motioned with his head toward the one empty chair. “We've got to have lots of stuff ready for the little kids to make sure they're good and busy.”

Russ stared in disbelief as the girls shuffled out of the way, making room for him at the last empty chair, and worse, obligating him to join them.

One of the girls sighed as she slid one of the piles toward him. “I can't believe that I'm spending Friday night cutting out colored paper.”

“It's for a good cause,” Russ replied before anyone else could. If he had had someone to make him cut out paper circles on Friday nights, his youth would have been a lot different.

To his surprise, the rest of the boys filtered over to the table and began cutting out shapes, though they remained standing. When they finished, Russ figured they had the biggest pile of shapes, miscellaneous circles, squares, rectangles and triangles, he'd ever seen, and they'd finished in record time.

Marielle stood to address the group. “We did great.
I think I'll order pizza for those of you who are allowed to stay.”

In any other group, Russ would have expected all the teens to cheer, or at least show some enthusiasm, but in this group, showing appreciation was probably a sign of weakness. All they did was shrug, and no one said a word. At that age he'd had exactly the same bad attitude, until he saw that appreciating someone's extra effort was a way to get noticed by the right people, which ultimately helped him accomplish what he had to do. Still, he couldn't help but feel that these kids should have been more appreciative—after all, they were being rewarded.

“Do we get beer? It's Friday night,” said a boy whose name Russ couldn't remember.

Marielle crossed her arms. “You know better than to ask that. First, you're underage, and second, this is a church.”

The boy grinned. “I had to try.”

“No, you didn't. Now clean up and I'll order. How many are staying?”

Not a single teen raised a hand, which of course Russ had expected. Marielle made a count just on slight nods or head shakes, then stopped and looked straight at him. “What about you, Russ? You helped cut the shapes, so you're invited to stay, too.”

“Me?” He pressed one hand over his chest. “But…” He glanced around. The boys wouldn't look at him, but a couple of the girls did, and he could see by their imploring expressions that they wanted him to stay. “Yes, but only under the condition that you let me help pay.”

Her relief couldn't have been more pronounced if she had a neon sign above her head. “That would be great. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be right back.”

One of the girls approached him. “My brother once got his nose broken, except he couldn't go to the doctor. He's got a big bump now. Are you going to have a bump?”

Russ raised one hand to the bandage still covering his nose. “Probably, but the doctor told me it would be minimal.” The bump he could handle. The doctor told him that while he was still out cold, they'd surgically straightened his nose, and because they'd done it right away, any permanent damage aside from the bump wouldn't be noticeable. He was just required to keep the bandage on for ten days to brace his nose until it healed sufficiently. While the bandage was ugly, he knew the bruise beneath it was worse—plus his nose was still quite tender.

If he had to say prayers, the one thing he was thankful for was the company's extensive medical insurance, something he hadn't had before he started working for Grant.

While the pizza was being ordered, Russ returned to the computers, but before he entered the next command, his cell phone rang.

He first checked the call display. “Hi, Grant,” he answered. “What's up?”

“I didn't want to call you earlier in case you were sleeping, but were you at the office this morning, by any chance?”

Russ started keyboarding as he talked. “No. I actually spent the day in bed, just like the doctor ordered. Why?”

“When Brenda got here this morning, the door wasn't locked and the alarm wasn't set. Tyler said he was positive he locked up properly last night when he left. So we were wondering if you were in to get something this morning and forgot to lock the door.”

Russ frowned. He would never, ever forget to lock the office door. Because of where and how he grew up, he was unfailingly diligent with anything where theft could occur. He even locked his car door when he went from his driveway into the house between bags of groceries after dark. “No. I wasn't there. Is anything missing?”

“No, nothing's missing, but it was just odd. The cleaning staff must have forgotten to lock up. I'm staying late, so I'll speak to the service tonight. There's too much valuable equipment in here for mistakes like that.” He paused. “How's everything going down there?”

Russ glanced at the row of computers, only one of which was turned on. “It could be better. But I have a few more days, so I'll get everything done just fine. I guess I'll see you Wednesday.”

“Great. Bye.”

Russ shut the phone and laid it on the table. He hit the prompt on the computer and waited for the next step of the installation.

Marielle sat in the chair beside him. “What's wrong? You look worried.”

“The office was open this morning. Nothing was taken, but it's got me thinking. What kind of security does this building have?”

“There are good, strong dead-bolt locks on every door.”

He turned around. “On the doors, yes, but I mean the
windows. This is an old building. Have the original locks ever been replaced? Also, this is the basement, but there aren't bars on the ground-level windows and there should be.”

“Bars? This is a church, not a prison.”

“Thieves still break into churches. The bars wouldn't be to keep people in, but to keep unwanted guests out. Is there an alarm system for the building?”

“We can't afford an alarm. Besides, except for books and Sunday school supplies, there isn't really much to steal here. There aren't any expensive or ornate decorations, the sound system is all attached to the wall, and what isn't attached is old and well used. The treasurer takes the offering straight to the bank on Sunday mornings, so there's never any money on the premises. There's really nothing of value here.”

“But now you've got five computers, and four more coming on Monday. I'm sure word has already spread through the community that they're here.”

“Probably.”

He rose, walked to the window and ran his hand along the bottom frame. “These are barely adequate. They should be enforced.”

“This is a heritage building and we're on a low budget. Do you know how many windows there are in this building? I could ask a couple of the boys to go outside and see if they can figure out how to get in, to make sure the locks are secure.”

“Are you kidding? That's just asking for trouble.” He clenched his jaw and stared at her, unable to believe that she would invite kids who were already potential
thieves a chance to prove themselves. “I've got another idea. I'll finish setting up the computers later. I have a little shopping to do, and I have to go quickly, before they close. Have you already phoned for the pizzas?”

“Yes.”

“Call them back. While I'm out I'll pick them up, and that way we'll get a discount. See you soon.”

“W
hat are you doing?” Marielle yelled over the sound of the drill.

“I'm making a hole,” Russ said as he pushed down until he was all the way through the table. “This is much neater, to have the cables go through instead of stringing everything along the table and over back. But this is really to make sure everything stays put.”

She watched as he tore open a package and, using the special glue, fastened a metal loop to the side of one of the monitors.

He turned to the teens who were watching every move he made, and said to Jason, “I'm still feeling a little banged up. Can you crawl under the table and stick this on the side of the tower?”

As he dotted the glue onto the flat section, Marielle stared at the hole in the table. “These are our banquet tables. When there's a special occasion, we use these
upstairs. I was going to just put the computers on the floor when we need the table.”

“Not anymore. This is now a dedicated computer table. I'm dedicating a second one on Monday, and they're not moving. I've already talked to Pastor Tom. I'm donating two new tables, so you won't be short. I don't feel good not having the computers secure.”

He bent down to watch Jason attach the looped metal piece to the right spot. “Okay, Jason, unplug everything, will you?”

She stood back as Russ pulled all the cables up from the back of the table, then fed everything plus a plastic-covered chain back down through the hole. While lying on the floor, Jason plugged everything back in, fed the chain through the metal loop, now firmly attached to the case of the tower, then poked the end of the chain back up through the hole. Russ put the chain through the loop attached to the monitor and fastened both ends of the chain together with a small padlock.

“There. When they're all done, the only way these computers are going anywhere is to put everything below up onto the table, and carry everything out at once, and not through a window, but through a wide, double door. I can guarantee you that if a couple of thieves were to walk down the street carrying a banquet table with five computers strapped to it, they would attract attention.” He paused and rested his hands on his hips. “Although, I wonder if it's possible to chain the table to the wall….”

“This is good enough,” Marielle said.

“Okay.” Russ smiled, picked up the drill and revved it in the air. “One down, four more to go.”

She expected to hear a Tim “The Toolman” Taylor grunt along with the noise of the drill, but it wasn't forthcoming.

Now that all the teens knew what they were doing, everyone wanted to help, but they only succeeded in getting in everyone else's way, especially since each had a piece of pizza in one hand and was eating while working. Russ showed considerable patience in letting them all do something, but it was slow going.

When the process was finished, a couple of the girls straightened and aligned everything on top of the table, and one boy swept up the wood shavings.

“Okay,” Marielle called. “Enough time inside. Everybody out!”

Russ watched the teens file outside. “Out?”

“We play basketball every Friday night, weather permitting. Some of these girls are pretty good, and they're all pretty tough when backed into a corner.”

He frowned. “I don't doubt that. Tell me, what are you doing here, in this neighborhood? You don't seem like you belong here.”

“A few years ago, there was a fire in my apartment building. Everyone got out okay and there was minimal damage to most of the suites, but they had to close the building for a few weeks for inspections, repairs, and then to get out the smell of the smoke. It was the middle of tourist season and there was a big convention in town, and by the time I started looking for a hotel, everything the insurance would pay for was full. A friend of one of my aunts lives not far from here, and she invited me to stay at her place for a few days, so I did,
because I didn't have anywhere else to go. We made an instant connection. I went to church with her on Sundays, and the rest is history.”

She didn't mention that Pastor Tom was the one who had given her the most emotional support and had guided her into doing something constructive with herself after Michael dumped her for another woman. Her own pastor had sided with Michael, telling Michael he had done the right thing, that they weren't really suited and it was just as well that he'd cancelled the wedding.

That was definitely true, but the way Michael had dumped her was cruel and heartless.

Her own pastor hadn't done anything to try to ease the hurt. In fact, it was Pastor Tom and a few people from this poor and needy congregation who had helped her deal with everything, including canceling many of the wedding arrangements. and it was then that Marielle had found the true meaning of friendship.

Besides, Michael and his new wife had started going to her other church, and she hadn't been comfortable there anymore. Now, two years later, she probably
could
go back and worship in the same room as them, but at the time, the hurt was too fresh. She just couldn't. Still, she would never leave this church and all the good people who helped her when she needed it. It was her turn to give something back, and she was.

“Didn't you have anyplace else you could go? Parents? Siblings? I've always been close to my mother and my sister, and I know if anything like that ever happened to me, that's the first place I would go.”

“My parents travel a lot. It's hard to explain, but they
really don't have a place to call home, at least not with a regular address. Not long after I got a job and got my own place, they came into a tidy sum of money. They sold their house, quit their jobs and got a motor home, and they've been traveling ever since. They generally stay someplace for a few months, and then move on. It's their goal to live for a while in every state, including Alaska, before they die. So far, they're doing pretty well.” Marielle grinned from ear to ear. “You should see the pile of postcards I've collected over the past two years. And the pictures they e-mail to me are spectacular. My mother is talking about writing a travel book, and I think she should.”

He blinked and stared at her, which was a common reaction when she told someone about her parents' adventuring ways. “Don't you miss each other? When do you see them? Do you have any other family?”

Marielle shrugged. “Of course I miss them, but we keep in touch. They're having the time of their lives, and I'm happy for them. They've planned to come visit me for Christmas this year, so that's going to be extra special. I'm an only child, and both my parents are also from one-child families, so it's just me here now that they're gone. But that's okay. I've got my church family here, and I'm happy. I haven't felt this right about a place, ever. God wanted me here, and so here I am.”

She wanted to say that God had put her in the right place the day of his accident, too, but for the first time, he was asking her personal questions and she wanted to keep the conversation open. She didn't want to give him any reason to shut her out.

He turned back to the teens, who were dividing themselves in to two teams. “Do you ever play basketball with them, or do you just watch? Or do you referee?”

Marielle laughed. “I referee and try to keep the boys from getting too competitive.”

“This I have to see.”

“We've changed the rules to be less aggressive and more fair for co-ed. They abide by it, so it works for me.”

They stood to the side to watch the scaled-down game until the sun began to set and the light became insufficient to see properly.

“Now what?” Russ asked, as all the teens moved back inside the building.

“I try to encourage them to play board games, but I'm not always successful. Usually we just sit and talk, and whenever I can, I try to steer the topic to an informal Bible study. They know this is a church, and they're bound to get stuck being forced to listen to some religious content as a condition of getting to use the facility. Some of them are believers, some of them are undecided, some of them aren't open yet, but they put up with me. I just do what I can, and I hope they make it through Saturday and come back on Sunday.”

“Do they?”

“A few, but I wish it was more.”

He mumbled something she couldn't make out, and chose to let it go.

This time, Marielle couldn't get the group to focus on anything but the new computers and the programs that Russ had brought and was going to teach Marielle to use,
so she could in turn teach them. Again, she was reminded of the graphics program that most of them wanted to learn. It was the basis for a month-long course that a couple of their friends were taking at a significant cost.

When midnight came, Marielle saw all of them to the door, but instead of Russ following the teens out, he remained beside the table of computers.

“I couldn't do this with the kids watching. I can't keep the keys to the padlocks because at some point you might need to move them. I'm just not sure what to do. You're only here for a few hours a day. If some disaster happens and they need to be moved quickly, you shouldn't have the keys on you. I thought I should give them to your pastor, but he's not necessarily here all the time, either, and you're the one who spends the time in this room. If some emergency happens and they have to be moved quickly, both of you need access to the keys.”

Marielle extended her hand toward him. “I'll just put them in the desk, then.”

Russ shook his head. “No. That's too obvious. The point is to protect them from theft. The desk is the first place a thief will look for the keys.” He glanced around the room. “This place is pretty bare.” He looked up at the ceiling. “But…” His voice trailed off. “There's a place no one would look for keys. I could put them behind one of the ceiling tiles, and that way they'd always be close to the computers in case of emergency. I'll let Pastor Tom know where they are, and I think that would work the best. Both of you would have access, and if neither of you was here, you could just tell whoever was here where they were. All it would take is to stand on a chair, and you've got them.”

That said, he pulled a chair to the end of the table. The effort to crawl onto the chair showed in his face, but he continued on his mission. Once he was standing on it, he was fine. He reached over his head, pushed up on one of the ceiling tiles, and slid the bundle of keys so they were situated directly above the computer that had formerly been his. When he let the tile drop, a cloud of dust poofed out, causing Russ to cough. He clutched his rib cage until the pain subsided and he could stand straight.

“Done,” he said, then hopped off the chair.

The second he landed, he gasped for breath, his face paled, and again he wrapped both arms around his chest. “That was stupid,” he said through clenched teeth.

Marielle also held her breath, unsure if he required medical assistance in case he'd dislocated something.

Slowly, he straightened and his color returned. “I'm fine. It's time to go.”

She doubted he was fine. The only thing she could see that he was, was stubborn. “Will you be coming back tomorrow? None of the youth group will be here, and you promised that you'd show me how to run some of these programs.”

“I did promise, didn't I?”

“If you're busy, that's okay. I'm sure we'll be able to figure them out from the help files.”

“I'll be here. I promised, and the help files aren't the best way to learn these complicated programs. It might work better if I picked you up. If I go past your place to get here, it seems a waste of gas to have both of us driving.”

Marielle's answer fled her brain. She could imagine the horrible gas mileage his SUV got, especially with the current gasoline prices. It didn't seem like someone who owned such a vehicle should be concerned with the price of gas. But now that she thought about it, he'd also saved her some money by picking up the pizzas and getting them the pickup discount. That he would be thrifty came as a surprise, but not an unpleasant one.

“Sure. I'll give you my address. I'll see you at two.”

 

At one minute before two o'clock, an increasingly familiar, large SUV pulled into her driveway.

Marielle grabbed her purse, slid on her shoes and ran to the door. When she finished locking up, she turned around to see Russ standing on her porch.

“You could have waited for me in the car.”

“My mother raised me to have good manners.”

From what she'd seen so far, that was true, overwork ethics aside.

Just as he claimed his mother had taught him, he opened the car door, waited until she was settled in and closed it for her.

Not even Michael had done that. The last time anyone had opened and closed a car door for her was when she was too short to reach the handle and had to be strapped into a booster seat. She didn't know how to feel about Russ doing it. She didn't want to be impressed.

He glanced at her before turning into traffic. “Are you ready for this?”

Marielle nodded. “I brought a pen and a notebook to
write things down, although I suspect I'll be reaching the point of brain overload in not too long.”

“If that happens, we can just stop when you've had enough and pick it up again on Monday after I'm done getting the rest of the computers set up. I have to change the subject. Doing this learning session in the middle of Saturday afternoon, which is really your only day to do it, is going to take away the usable part of the day. When do you think you'll be able to get the repairs done on your car? Will it have to wait until next weekend? And I want to pay cash for the repairs so it doesn't affect my insurance rates.”

“Yes. I'm not going to ask him to have a look at it on Sunday after church. That would be too much like asking a doctor for free medical advice away from the office. I don't mind leaving it. The door opens, the window still goes up and down, and it gets me to work on time, so anything else is extra.”