Fish Tales: The Life and Ministries of Peter Carson

© 2008 by Chris Edson

 

Romans 8:28

Chapter Five

 

"And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose."

 

Painting over the old letters on the water tower was not as difficult as Peter had expected. Dorothy had shown up, true to her word, and spent the entire morning craning her neck to watch him. As a reward for her diligence, he invited her to accompany him to Wilma’s for lunch.

 

Judy came over to wait on them and gave Peter a wink, “Found a lunch partner, did you?”

 

Peter smiled, “She’s been supervising my water tower project, so I thought she deserved lunch at the least.”

 

Dorothy gave Judy a big grin, “He says I’m a good supervisor!”

 

“I’ll just bet you are, Dorothy. Special today is fried chicken with mashed potatoes, corn, and salad.”

 

“Sounds good to me,” Peter told her. “How about you, Dorothy?”

 

Her eyes were big as she looked over the menu, “I like chicken.”

 

“Shall we make it two then?” Peter asked.

 

She nodded and let Judy take the menu back, “Two specials then. Dorothy, what kind of dressing you want on your salad, Hon?”

 

“Uh….” She gave Peter a confused look.

 

“How about we try Ranch and you just put in the side for her?” He asked.

 

“Will do. I’ll have them right out.”

 

Once Judy had left them, Dorothy looked across the table at Peter, speaking in what was supposed to be a whisper, but did not quite achieve that tone, “I never ate a big fancy meal at a place like this before.”

 

Peter smiled, “Well, you deserve to do it more often. If you don’t like the dressing I ordered for you, then we can try something else, all right?”

 

She continued in her attempt to whisper, “I’m glad chicken was the special. I didn’t know what that menu said.”

 

Peter lowered his voice, in concern, “Dorothy, can you not read?”

 

She glanced back and forth a bit before answering, “Not big words.”

 

He nodded, “Would you like to learn?”

 

She looked down, “I done tried. I’m just not smart enough.”

 

“Oh, I think you’re very smart, Dorothy,” he encouraged. “Maybe when I get done with the water tower, we can set aside a little time each day for me to help you improve your reading.”

 

“Are you a teacher, Peter? I thought you was just a painter.”

 

“I am a painter,” he chuckled. “But anyone who knows how to read can teach someone else how to do it.”

 

Judy returned with their salads and Dorothy looked up at her with a big grin, “Peter is going to teach me to read!”

 

“Is he now?” Judy’s brow went up. “Well, that’s something to be happy about, Dorothy.”

 

“He says I’m smart and I can do it.”

 

Judy glanced at Peter skeptically, “Well, you’ll have to tell me how that goes.”

 

Peter met her look with determination, “I am certain you will be able to see for yourself.”

 

~*~

 

The next day, Peter began work on the lion emblem. He knew it would be a rather slow and methodical process, but he also had no doubt he would be able to accomplish it. He had chosen to work during the mornings, before the heat of the day, leaving him the afternoon hours to help Lily at the shop.

 

He had bought Dorothy lunch again and seen her on her way home, when he started across the park toward the shop. There was a young blonde sitting on a park bench, and as he approached, he realized he knew her.

 

“Patty?” He walked up.

 

She looked up with a tear-stained face. “Mr. Carson!” She hurriedly tried to wipe the evidence of her emotions from her face.

 

He immediately sat next to her, “Patty, what’s wrong?”

 

She shook her head, “Oh, nothing. I’m fine.”

 

“Then why are you crying?”

 

“It’s just…um…” she sighed and looked toward the water tower. “So, you started the lion today, huh? It looks good so far.”

 

He softened his voice as much possible, “Patty, please tell me what’s troubling you. Perhaps I can help. Even if only by listening.”

 

She shook her head and the tears returned, “I don’t think anyone can help. It’s too big of a mess. I can’t even help.”

 

“God can help. No mess is too big for Him.”

 

“Oh, I don’t know. I think He’s pretty upset about this one.”

 

“Even when He’s not pleased,” Peter pointed out, “if we turn it over to Him, He will help us.”

 

She looked up at him, swallowing hard, “If I tell you, do you promise not to tell anyone else?”

 

Peter hated such promises, but he had long ago learned that God placed him in these situations for a purpose. He nodded. “Tell me.”

 

She looked down at her hands and began speaking, “I have this friend. My best friend. Since forever. We’ve gone to school together since Kindergarten. She told me something today and I don’t know what to do about it. I mean, I can’t really do anything, I guess, but…I don’t know.”

 

Peter was unable to discern if she were really speaking of a friend or of herself. He was simply thankful she was talking to him. “Go on.”

 

She took a deep breath, “She um…she found out that she’s pregnant.”

 

Lord, put your words in my mouth, he prayed silently. He kept his tone soft, “Then she definitely needs to put this in God’s hands. And as her friend, you can be there to give her wise counsel and to pray for her and with her.”

 

She sniffed and gave a little sarcastic laugh, “Wise counsel? How can I do that? I don’t know what to tell her. I just know that she’s messed up her whole life no matter what she does now.”

 

“She made a mistake,” he agreed, “but each time we make mistakes, we can either let them destroy us or draw us closer to God. Patty, has she told her parents?”

 

“Are you kidding? Her dad will go ballistic!”

 

“She must tell them.”

 

“I don’t know. I don’t think I can convince her to do that.”

 

“They will find out, and it’s best she tell them now.”

 

“Well, they might not find out. Not if she…” her voice trailed off.

 

A chill went down his spine, but he didn’t let his voice grow harsh, “Patty, you must counsel her not to turn one mistake into an even greater one.”

 

“I don’t have the right to tell her that would be a mistake.”

 

“Yes, you do. You’re her friend. And it’s more than a right, it’s your responsibility. No matter what her decision, she cannot keep it a secret forever.”

 

She gave him a puzzled look.

 

“Patty,” he explained, “God knows. And one day we will all have to stand before Him and answer for everything we have done. She will have to answer for her choices, her parents will have to answer for theirs, and you will have to answer for yours.”

 

“You mean if I tell her the wrong thing now, I’ll have to answer for that later, too?” She asked softly.

 

“Yes, you will. If you give her wise counsel and she still chooses the wrong path, you have done your best. But if you tell her nothing…then part of the responsibility lies with you.”

 

“She’s afraid of what her dad will do.”

 

“Tell me honestly, Patty—is there a chance that he will do something harmful to her?”

 

She thought for a minute, “I don’t really think so. But I’m not sure that he won’t kill her boyfriend.”

 

“Has she told her boyfriend?”

 

She shook her head, “Just me.”

 

“He needs to know. And so do her parents. No matter what their reaction, she is still their responsibility. If they react in a way that is wrong before God, then they will have to answer to Him for that.”

 

“How can you be so sure about all this?” She looked up at him.

 

He let out a slow breath before answering, “Because a little over 35 years ago, there was another 16 year old girl facing a similar situation. Had she made the wrong choice, I wouldn’t be here today.”

 

Her eyes widened, “Oh. Wow. So your mom…?”

 

He nodded.

 

“She told her folks?”

 

He nodded.

“What did her dad do?”

 

He gave her a lopsided smile, “He went ballistic.”

 

“Did he kill her boyfriend?”

 

He shook his head.

 

“So it all worked out, huh? I mean, you’re here today and you’re all right.”

 

“Put this in God’s hands,” he advised. “Tell her what you know in your heart that God would want her to do. And pray. Let Him take care of the rest, all right?”

 

She nodded, “Thank you, Mr. Carson.”

 

“You’re welcome, Patty.” He stood up and put his hand on her shoulder, “If you need to talk again, you know where to find me. I will remember you and your friend in my prayers.”

 

~*~

 

It was late the next evening, while Peter was reading, that he heard loud voices below his window. He looked out to see a group of teenage boys on skateboards, apparently taunting Dorothy.

 

He put his head out and called down, “Dorothy?”

 

They all looked up and she smiled, waving, “Hi, Peter!”

 

“What are you doing out so late, Dorothy?”

 

“I was just walking home,” she smiled up, oblivious to the fact that the boys might have presented a danger to her.

 

“Stay there and I’ll come down to walk you home,” he called. As he did so, the boys began scattering. When he reached the sidewalk below, there was no trace of them, but Dorothy was waiting with a smile.  He told her, “You shouldn’t be out walking alone after dark, Dorothy.”

 

“My friend Mike invited me to his house for a barbecue,” she explained as they walked. “I was just coming home.”

 

“Well, your friend Mike should have seen you safely home,” he remarked.

 

“I walk everywhere, Peter.”

 

“I know you do. But it’s not safe even in Willowbrook for a young lady to walk around alone after dark.”

 

“No one called me that before.”

 

“What?”

 

“A young lady.”

 

He chuckled, “Well, I don’t know why not. You are young and you are a lady, aren’t you?”

 

She giggled and nodded.

 

By this time, they had come to the front of her house. Peter smiled, “I’ll wait here and be sure you get inside OK.”

 

“Thank you for walking me home, Peter.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the water tower.”

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Dorothy.”

 

He watched her disappear into the large old house and waited to be sure lights came on inside. As he was turning to go home, he heard raised voices and a door slamming across the street. In the glow of the porch light, he could make out the figure of Jimmy Johnson, picking up a flowerpot and tossing it with all his might against the steps, dashing it to pieces.

 

Peter took a deep breath, looked heavenward, nodded, then silently made his way across the street. His calm voice no doubt startled the Chief of Police, “Good evening.”

 

“What…?” Jimmy looked up, then let out a disgusted sigh, reaching to pick up the pieces of the shattered pot. “Evenin’. Not much good about it.”

 

Peter stepped up next to the porch and bent to pick up the begonia plant that had been displaced, “I think if you have another pot we could save this little lady.”

 

“Saving flowers isn’t high on my list right now,” he muttered.

 

“Sometimes it helps to deal with the simple tasks first,” Peter remarked.

 

After looking him over for a moment, Jimmy pointed toward an unattached garage, “Just inside the door there, you’ll find a stack of pots.”

 

Peter went to retrieve one and brought a broom with him, as well, “Thought this might be helpful.”

 

Jimmy took it and began sweeping off the steps, as Peter began repotting the flower. After a few minutes of silence, he looked at Peter, “What are you doing here, anyway?”

 

“I walked Dorothy home.”

 

“From where?”

 

“She appeared beneath my window amongst a group of rather rowdy teenage boys. I thought it best to see to it she made it home safely.”

 

He shook his head, “I’ve told her she shouldn’t go wandering around alone at night.”

 

“She has no perception of danger,” Peter observed. “It’s good she lives in a place where there is little of it.”

 

“Oh, it’s there,” he muttered. “Whether we like it or not.”

 

“Indeed, it is. Which is why we must rely on God to protect us.”

 

“Yeah, well He hasn’t been doing a very good job of it lately,” Jimmy complained.

 

Peter placed the pot back where its predecessor had met its fate, “Rest assured He is in charge. Even when it seems not so, He is still in control.”

 

“Easy for you to say.”

 

“Yes, it is easy for me to say. Because I know it beyond a doubt,” Peter replied. “Whatever is troubling you, if you put in His hands, you will find a great burden lifted from your shoulders.”

 

He shook his head, “Afraid this is something I’m going to have to fix. I don’t have a clue how, though.”

 

“All the more reason to hand it over to God. He does know how. Trust me on that one.”

 

“My daughter just dropped a bomb on me. Not something that can be easily fixed, either.”

 

Peter felt that familiar wave of realization move through him. Silently, he prayed Lord, use me as you see fit. “Well, if she told you something, then at least she is communicating with you. That is a step in the right direction.”

 

“It’s a little late now.”

 

“It’s never too late. Not while there is breath left.”

 

“What do you know about it?” Jimmy challenged. “You’re not a father…or are you?”

 

Peter shook his head, “No, I’m not. But I do know that your anger will not help anyone. Not your daughter and not you. Whatever she told you, it is your choice how you react to it.”

 

Jimmy ran his hand through his hair and let out a sigh, “She told me she’s pregnant.”

 

“Then what she needs is your love.”

 

“You don’t seem surprised,” Jimmy looked at him oddly.

 

“I am rarely surprised,” Peter confessed. “That’s beside the point. Be glad that she told you before she did something irrational. Don’t punish her for telling you the truth. Instead, help her to face this trial with courage. Help her to see that God can turn our worst mistakes into triumphs when we put them in His hands.”

 

“How?”

 

“By your actions. By your love. Every trial in our life can do one of two things—it can destroy us, or it can bring us closer to God. The choice is yours. You can trust Him to turn this to good, or you can harbor it and try to handle it on your own and take yourself and your family down with you.”

 

Jimmy turned and sat on the steps, head in his hands, “I don’t think it makes much difference what I do now.”

 

“It makes a big difference,” Peter sat next to him. “The fact that she came to you shows that she is not lost. But your reaction could push her down the road to destruction.”

 

Jimmy looked up, “Why do you say that?”

 

“Because I know.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Because I had a grandfather who made that mistake.”

 

Jimmy looked at him intently.

 

Peter continued, “His teenage daughter came to him when she found herself in this situation and he didn’t offer her his love and support. Instead he wished to send her away, to have the child put up for adoption, and to keep it a secret from everyone they knew. He thought hiding the truth would somehow erase it. But truth cannot be hidden.”

 

“What did she do?”

 

“She tried to run away from home, but Grandmother stopped her. Finally pled with my grandfather and convinced him to let her stay and have the baby. Of course, by the time I arrived, his heart had softened and he dropped the idea of adoption. But she never forgave him. And she never stopped rebelling against him. She died a young and tragic death because of it.”

 

Jimmy let out a slow breath and shook his head, “Well, he must’ve done something right. Because here you are giving me advice after I threatened to run you out of town.”

 

Peter chuckled, “You were looking out for Lily. Now, go back inside and embrace your daughter and tell her you love her. Then lead your family to their knees in prayer and leave this in God’s hands.”

 

“You should’ve been a pastor,” Jimmy stood up and put his hand out to Peter.

 

Peter took it as he stood up, “If I were, then I wouldn’t be here right now for you, would I?”

 

“Guess not,” he sighed. “All right, I’ll give it my best shot.”

 

“That’s all any of us can do, Jim. You will all be in my prayers.”

 

As he turned to walk home, Jim called him, “Peter…thank you.”

 

Peter pointed up, “Thank Him. He’s the one who put me here.”