Justice in Greene

Justice in Greene

John Rich Dorean

Published by John Rich Dorean at Smashwords

ISBN 978-0-9851994-5-6

Copyright 2014 John Rich Dorean

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Introduction:

The problems of big city drug abuse have begun to disrupt the calm life in tranquil Greene County. Now Pastor Mark Stewart is intimately caught up in the struggles of some of his church families battling the plague of addiction. Has his passion for those he lovingly labors for led him to a vigilante justice against those who promote this evil? In this the final piece of the Mark Stewart trilogy, while families are nurtured and new love blossoms, friendships are tested and faith imperiled as the war on drugs becomes deeply personal.

Chapter One

Good night, ladies. Drive safely, Pastor Mark Stewart called out to the first of those out the door of the church’s social hall. Hope to see you on Sunday, if not before.

The blistering June heat left no one from the monthly meeting of the Grace Presbyterian Church’s support group for families struggling with addiction hanging around inside the hall. They met in the non-air-conditioned part of the building to facilitate their wheelchair bound pastor’s participation in the group meetings. Ceiling fans and oscillating floor units just could not compete with the 95 degree heat. When the pastor closed the meeting in prayer, the group made a speedy dash for the outdoors almost before the final Amen.

With the growing dusk, a cool breeze was stirring and the shaded parking lot felt like a cool respite from the stifling heat of the church building. Some of the group lingered in the shadows of the summer’s eve.

For a group with no trained counselors, I think God used us pretty effectively tonight, Stewart commented to Ethan Lawson, the co-convener of the group and the church’s youth pastor.

Yeah, I hope so, though for a good while there I wasn’t sure how things were going to end up, responded Ethan. And I am not sure it was good for everyone there. An awful lot of pain and anger and desperation got poured out tonight. I am just glad God gave us the love that seemed to help them through it to a better spot.

Formed more than two years prior, the group varied in size from its core of five devoted souls to as many as fifteen. This night was one of those larger groups, with two new families represented who were in the midst of the fire of dealing with sons and daughters losing their battles with addiction and pulling the whole family down with them.

The two men, who had known each other from a distance most of Stewart’s now twenty years at Grace, had become more than fast friends over the last three years. Ethan, the son of one of Grace’s most committed couples, had been only a few years old when Mark first came to Grace. Stewart had watched the young boy grow to adulthood, getting involved in his teen years in the church’s youth group and dartball and softball teams.

Despite that strong personal and family involvement in the life of the church, Ethan had himself walked through the hell of addiction for nine months. Something of a computer geek, he had been making six figures two years out of college. But the money meant little when his dad, who had been the rock on which he leaned, became ill with Lou Gehrig’s disease. Paul Lawson, a banker and for three decades the treasurer of Grace Presbyterian, had lost a noble fight against the ravages of his disease.

But the dying had been made infinitely more painful as he watched his beloved son go through nine months of heroin addiction. Ethan had quit his job in Pittsburgh to spend time helping his mom care for his ailing dad. To a degree that no one suspected, the pain of watching his once robust father lose the ability to walk and then fight for breath was more than he could handle. A high school friend had hooked him up with his first bag of heroin and in a matter of a few months he had blown through his own savings and had begun stealing from his folks.

On one of his daily runs in his training wheelchair, out towards Seven Creeks, Mark Stewart had found Ethan passed out in his mom’s car, a needle sticking from his arm. Mark had accompanied Joe Andrews and the Jefferson Volunteer Fire Company ambulance crew who responded to his 911 call to Southwest Regional and then on to Ruby Memorial in Morgantown.

In the months prior to his father’s death, while he himself was on his third round of rehab, Ethan had begun a discipleship mentoring program with his pastor. The two had met weekly, first in the rehab facility and later in the pastor’s office, to study the Scriptures and to talk about the Bible’s implications for their lives. It was out of the painful sharing of one of those sessions that the idea came for the support group, and the two had cemented the closeness of their friendship through caring counsel for the members of the Jefferson community who attended.

Good night, Pastor Stewart, this from Jim Frazier who with his wife, Caroline, and daughter, Piper, had attended the group for the first time. They had stayed after the meeting to talk further with Mark’s wife, Lisa, and with her, were the last ones to leave the meeting.

See you around, Piper, said Ethan.

K, was the only response as the beautiful young woman with blond dreadlocks slipped into the back seat of her parents’ car.

As the Fraziers’ silver Camry pulled out of the parking lot, Mark said to Ethan and his wife who had joined them, I remember when that young woman was captain of the basketball team that won the Sections.

Yeah, and the junior attendant at May Day. And Vice-President of the National Honor Society, commented his wife.

And the first and only girl I ever dated in high school, added Ethan.

No kidding! exclaimed Stewart turning to wink at his wife. You’ve never said anything about your dating life. Whatever happened?

I’ve never said anything because there was no dating life. I took Piper out about three times in the first few weeks that she was a freshman in high school. I was a senior. And, well, those few weeks were heaven for me and all it took for the rest of the guys in the school to realize what a looker she was. Most never saw the depth of her character that I sensed even then.

Oh, yeah, depth of character. I suppose those male hormones of yours never noticed that she was drop dead gorgeous either, Mister, joked Lisa as she pulled Ethan’s ball cap down over his eyes and slid her arm around his waist with motherly affection.

She had said it to lighten the mood and, with her husband, noticed immediately that it had not had that effect.

I noticed all right, he said and uncharacteristically took off running out of the parking lot.

Mark?

It’s OK, honey. I don’t know what to make of that either. And the two turned to head into their home located next door to the church.

***

Thanks for going with us tonight, Piper, Jim Frazier said as they headed down Pine Street on the way to their home in Mather. It was helpful to your mom and me to be able to share our struggles with some caring people.

That’s great. I love being thought of as your ‘struggle.’

Darling, you know that’s not what your father meant, Caroline responded.

Nor is it how either of us feels. But whether you like it or not, your mother and I have been through hell and back again these last months, what with worrying about whether you were dead or alive, coming up with the tens of thousands of dollars to pay for one rehab center after another and listening to the gossip on Facebook and Twitter about how we were responsible for all that had happened to you.

We’re just so glad that all of that is behind us now and we can all start putting our lives back together again. I agree with your dad, tonight was a big step in the right direction.

They had pulled into the driveway of their home on Second Street and were getting out of the car.

For you anyway, Piper replied and with that took off down the street.

The last touches of a dazzling sunset were just slipping over the hills as she made her way around the corner of Ninth Street and towards the house that had been her goal when she abandoned her parents fifteen minutes ago. Since then she had walked up and down the streets of Mather with the appearance of one out for an evening stroll.

She bounded up the stairs of the white brick house, one of the few brick homes in the old coal company patch town. Her knock produced a shuffling of feet and the scraping of furniture and eventually a slightly cracked door.

What you want? whispered a voice from behind the door.

What do you think I want? Why else would I be here? Why else would anyone be here? You think people like hanging out with you?

You haven’t been around for a while. Thought you’d got clean.

Yeah, well, so did a lot of other folks. Thought so myself until a little while ago.

***

A whirlwind of emotions stormed in Ethan’s heart as he jogged from the Stewarts’ home in Jefferson towards Mather. His family home was located up the hill overlooking the town, but he had decided to check in with Piper about how the meeting had gone for her.

The two had not spoken in years before tonight. In their last months together in high school, they had become good friends, once the barrage of other suitors had ended any hopes he had had of their becoming something more. Ethan, a good student and first class runner, was throughout his high school years skinny as a rail and flat out unable to compete with the better looking guys in school for the attention of the ladies.

In his four years at Wheaton College, he had hit the weight room hard, replaced his oversized black glasses with contacts and slowly grew out of his teenage acne. Still not anyone’s idea of a hunk, he was comfortable with himself. His obvious joy in how his life was at last coming together was noticed by all.

He and Piper had emailed and texted for most of his first three years at college. But as she got more serious with each passing boyfriend, his own desire to have their relationship be something more grew too painful. So the visits he had paid her family at each break became less and less frequent and stopped altogether when he began his career in Pittsburgh. He used busyness at work as an excuse.

Though they had not communicated directly, Ethan had followed her every posting on Facebook and had known of her rapid slide into addiction. It seemed that her dalliance with drugs had begun when she was living with Justin Edmonds. After being together for almost a year, he had ditched her to take up with a hot young nursing student at Waynesburg University. With some female friends from the Haliburton office in Khedive where she was working, Piper had visited the house in Mather from which she had just scored and her descent into the bliss and heartache of addiction had accelerated.

Ethan sensed her uneasiness about her folks’ sharing her addiction issues with the support group and was certain that his presence had only worsened her discomfort. Not wanting to open the seven year wound in his own heart, he nonetheless longed to make sure she was OK.

Hi Ethan, Jim Frazier greeted him as he sprung up the steps of their home on Second Street. Caroline and I were so grateful to be able to share with your group tonight. And the prayers you all offered for us touched us deeply.

I am glad to hear that, Mr. Frazier. I was kind of wondering how it was for Piper?

Not as good, I’m afraid. On the way home she made a couple of comments that let us know she had not been as blessed as we were. Took off right after we got home and we haven’t seen her since. If she weren’t three months clean by now, I’d be worried about her.

Three months, three years, three decades: it doesn’t make much difference if you lose your focus, Mr. Frazier. I have been clean now for more than two years and there is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about heroin. I don’t want to prejudge her but I know the allure. I think I will try to find her.

I’ll get Caroline and we’ll jump in the car and see if we can locate her.

***

The Frazier’s gave up their search after an hour. By that time they had driven through the eight blocks of Mather a half dozen times, cruised the streets of Jefferson twice and driven to Dry Tavern, the top of Rogers Hill and as far as the Littl’ Store towards Waynesburg. Ethan had jogged the streets of Mather one time wishfully hoping she was just walking to blow off steam before heading to the white brick house on Ninth Street that he knew all too well from his own months of shooting up.

His knock brought little reaction. In the half hour since Piper had left, the occupants had all gotten loaded and were greatly slowed in their reactions. Ethan pounded on the door.

Open the door!

There was still no response. As his fears mixed with a growing anger, his voice rang out louder.

Open this door or I’ll call 911 and have the cops pay you dudes a visit.

The door cracked just a slither and he put in his foot to widen the crack as far as the chain would allow.

Is Piper Frazier in there? he barked between clenched teeth.

Piper? I heard she was clean, squeaked a stoned voice. You looking to get high?

No, I’m not. Are you telling me you haven’t seen her tonight?

Man, I have just been here with my old lady and some friends. Nobody’s come by here tonight.

Yeah, I’ll bet, Ethan seethed. And you wouldn’t tell me if she had. Of that I am certain.

Ethan decided that if she was using, it was likely that she would be doing so alone. With the first time use after a time of sobriety, there was a shame that precluded the desire for company. That meant she was likely in the woods somewhere nearby. He found her about a half hour later, passed out in some bushes in what Mather residents called Stinky Ditch. Run off from the slag heap that had overlooked the southern end of town for fifty years had left a nasty smell to the ditch since the old mine had closed. Over the last decade the slag heap had slowly been reclaimed and the ditch lost its unpleasant odor. But not its name.

Piper was passed out. Ethan scooped her up and carried her the several hundred yards to her parents’ front porch. They were watching the news inside when he put her down in the woven recliner, rang the door bell and slipped behind the neighbor’s home. He thought it might be easier for her, and maybe her parents, to have there be some anonymity to her return home.

***

Early the next morning, Sean MacKenzie and his son Asa were playing a game of hoops with Mark Stewart and his sons Brett and Craig in the parking lot at the rear of the Grace Presbyterian Church. The two pastors had for years tried to take a day a week to kayak together, but as their sons grew older and started playing basketball in school, the two dads occasionally made time early in their day to get in a little court time with the boys. All five had a competitive spirit that verged on combative and the games were always physical. No slack was given to Stewart in his wheelchair and neither of the men gave any quarter to the boys. In fact, when Mark and Brett pulled off a slick pick and roll at the top of the key that should have left Mark an unimpeded drive to the hoop, Sean literally ran through Brett to stop him and all three competitors ended up spilled on the pavement. They were picking themselves up when Ethan Lawson jogged into the parking lot.

Now he comes, commented Mark. Just in time to call the paramedics for his old friend. If you’d been here a few minutes sooner, you might’ve slowed this clumsy brute down so that he didn’t annihilate Brett and me.

Sorry, Mark, but if I’d known you five were going at it back here, I would have stayed away longer. You forget I’ve played with you and Sean and I’ve learned to stay clear of you two when you get near a basketball.

What are you saying there, Ethan? chimed in Sean with a broadening smile.

I’m saying that you guys are evidence of the arrival of the Kingdom on earth. How any two guys who maul each other on the court can not only speak together afterwards, but be good friends to boot, is nothing less than a miracle of God.

Well, evidence of the Kingdom or not, we had better stop now and get these abrasions cleaned up a bit before Nurse Mom gets an eye on us. She doesn’t see competitive fury with the same theological astuteness that you bring to it. Just thinks we are pig headed and stupid.

Where is Lisa anyway? asked Ethan.

Should be home any minute. She and this goon’s wife, Marci, get together while we play basketball and go out for breakfast at Muhli’s. Marci leaves their daughter, Lainey Beth, with her mom. It is a win win time for everybody.

At least until we nearly kill ourselves driving to the hoop, threw in Sean.

Almost as if on cue, Lisa Stewart’s four door Toyota Tacoma pulled into the garage adjacent to the parking lot.