"I
just got a call from the high school and it appears that more and more kids are
involved in drug use. They’re trying to
pinpoint the distribution, but you know how difficult that can be. This is especially true since they do not
control the flow of traffic in and out of the building. I suggested they put up security cameras in
lieu of having someone man the doors. At
any rate, they said they would take my suggestion to the next board
meeting. I’d hate the thought that some
of our kids are involved, but one never knows what kids will do when they are
out of sight of authority.”
“Yes,
I do know. I’ve actually been a little
concerned about Vernon Jenkins, lately.
He seems to be more resistant to the teachings at the church. I’m not sure if it is just teen-age angst or
if there is another problem. I’ve tried
to talk to him, but he always leaves as soon as church is over and I think he
only attends the youth meetings because his dad makes him.”
“Both
he and his dad are having a bad time.
I’ve offered to counsel him, but his father insists he can handle
it. I’m just not sure if he’s trying to
handle things as his dad or as a minister.
Sometimes those lines can be blurred.
I hope that’s not the case here.”
“Pastor
Cal…I …uh. I was trying not to say
anything until I could prove my suspicions but I think Vernon is using. He’s distant and his eyes are always glassy-looking. I know the symptoms. The pulling away from people who know you
well, trying to fit in with all the wrong folks. I hope he’s not, but all the signs are
there.”
“Before
you draw any conclusions, see if you can get him to open up and talk to you. I’m sure if we can get him to talk, we’ll be
able to help him, but if he’s not willing, the only thing we can do is to alert
his dad. You want me to do it?”
“No
sir. At least, not yet. Let me try talking to him. His dad has quite a temper and I would not
want to be responsible for anything that happens to Vernon because of his dad’s
uncontrolled anger. I’ll make it my
business to talk to him tonight and let you know what happened. Was there anything else?”
“No,
not at all. I’m sure you have things to
prepare for your meeting. Call me
tomorrow when you get a chance. And…by
the way, Pastor Dee and I are expecting a new baby…”
“Congratulations!”
Reverend Anderson interrupted, surprised by the news.
“Thanks,
but we want to keep this quiet for a while.
Because this pregnancy puts her at risk, she’s not going to be around
the church much and I’m going to need every minister on board to fill in the
gap. Can I count on you?”
“Absolutely. And please let Pastor Dee I’m praying for her
and the baby.”
“I’m
sure she’ll appreciate your prayers.
I’ll talk to you later.”
After
Reverend Anderson hung up the phone, he smiled to himself. He knew that Pastor Dee and Pastor Cal were
relatively newlyweds, but he didn’t think that a baby would ever be part of the
equation. “How about that?” he
thought. “They still got it going on.”
He pulled out his bible and began writing some notes for the youth meeting. Before long, stumped as to how to approach
the subjects he wanted to discuss, he got on the Internet to see if there any
websites with good suggestions. As he searched, he remembered. He remembered his own involvement with drugs
and how it could have cost him his life.
Paul
Anderson, the greatest athlete known at Community High School, had many offers
from various colleges and had been awarded all sorts of scholarships. It was the spring just before he graduated
high school that things fell apart. He
and some of his buddies had been out celebrating their impending graduation and
all of their accomplishments in high school.
When someone had pulled out a joint, at first Paul refused—thinking
about all he had ahead of him—he didn’t want to ruin his chances to be
successful. After a while, someone dared
him to take a drag. Never one to resist
a dare, he accepted the joint and inhaled deeply, sputtering like crazy as he
coughed violently. The other guys
laughed at him, but since his eyes were smarting and his lungs burning, he
didn’t see anything funny. The longer he
sat, watching them pass the joint, the calmer he became until he finally took
another hit. This time, he didn’t
sputter or cough; he just sat back and grinned stupidly. By the time he got ready to go home, he
couldn’t focus. The world seemed to be
moving faster than he was and he was trying to catch up. He heard laughter faintly as though it was
far away, but he couldn’t see who was laughing.
His buddies all appeared to be far away. Finally, he heard someone say,
“we gotta take him home. He can’t drive
like that.”
Unfortunately,
they didn’t move fast enough. By the time someone thought about getting his car
keys from him, Paul had walked out the door, keys in-hand. He struggled trying to open the door when he
couldn’t get the keys to slide into the lock and then almost fell getting into
the car, but he finally got the keys into the ignition and started the car to
head home. That was the last thing he
remembered of that fateful night.
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