Potential

Neither man nor woman is perfect or complete without the other. Thus, no marriage or family, no ward or stake is likely to reach its full potential until husbands and wives, mothers and fathers, men and women work together in unity of purpose, respecting and relying upon each other's strengths. 

Sheri L. Dew

You may never have seen this couple before. Their visit to Seattle was not given any press time. Even though 49,000 people came to hear them speak and the streets of the city were lined with families leaving the baseball stadium after their addresses. 

I loved what they said but I will always remember their reliance and respect for one another. Together they have reached a new potential. Individually he was a renowned open heart surgeon, husband and father, and she was an author and family therapist. Now together they teach the gospel of Jesus Christ to people all over the world. He is the prophet and president of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They are servants of the Lord. And together they are magnificent. FYI, he is ninety four years young and did not even hold on to the railing as he came up to the podium. 

The Lord will provide and sustain.

Chapter 5- the Gymnopédist

I came very young into a world that was very old.

     Erik Satie

When Mrs. Hanson introduced Miguel to the composer Erik Satie he found a kindred spirit. Very eccentric with odd tastes, Satie was even called a complete lunatic by some music critics. Miguel memorized all three Gymnopédies and loved the dance like qualities of these pieces. He visualized Satie walking a wire wearing his chestnut colored corduroy suit with matching hat carrying an umbrella, the first Gymnopédie playing in the background.

Reggie walked out of the house behind Stevie. He stepped over the cracks in the cement sidewalk. The street was quiet but it felt to him that they were being observed. He glanced over to the neighbors house. Several rusty vehicles were parked in the driveway. One had a flat tire and the other was missing a front bumper. A flash of red in the window looked like a woman. As he squinted to get a clearer view the blinds dropped shut. 

Stevie got into the passenger side. Reggie fumbled into his pocket to see if he had keys. Stevie drove them to Rosa’s house but something was bothering her and now she was not going to drive. He opened the door and moved into the driver’s seat. 

“Can I have the keys?” Reggie asked.

Stevie pulled them out of her pants pocket. 

“I think we need to go back to the Highland police station and report on what we’ve done.”   Reggie said.

Stevie was still quiet and he glanced over at her. She was staring straight ahead. 

“What’s up?” He said putting the keys into the ignition but not turning the car on.

He waited but still Stevie refused to talk. 

“Okay, I don’t know what you thought you were doing in there but I need to tell you that we missed a real opportunity to gather information. When Detective Mullins finds out that the older brother Pablo Cervantes was there with his mother he will want to know what we found out when we questioned him. Stevie, why didn’t we question him? He obviously knew more about his brother.”

“I wasn’t there to do an interrogation. I was there to give the news of a son’s death to a mother who works in my home. Sometimes she picks up my underwear on the floor of my room, for God’s sake.” Stevie’s voice shook with emotion.

“At what point do you lose your objectivity and forget you are an officer of the law?” Reggie adjusted his position in the seat and moved the seat backwards.

“Perhaps it is when I realize that the murdered boy sits at my piano while my mother gives him piano lessons. My God, Reggie, I can’t be dispassionate about this.” 

A single tear rolled down Stevie’s face and Reggie watched her brush it away. He didn’t know what to do. He wondered if this would play out to bite him in the butt. He started the car and headed towards the Highland police station.

The detectives were gathered around Bart Mullins when Reggie and Stevie walked in.

“The Seattle elite are back.” The sniggering was expected but still bothered Reggie. 

“So what did you find out from the family when you delivered the news?” A burly, roundish detective asked from his desk. The name on his desk indicated that he was Roger Simmons. Reggie remembered him from the crime scene earlier. 

“We talked to a devastated mother who had no idea her son was wire walking in his spare time. The older son Pablo knew he was out early that morning with Jorge but claimed ignorance as to the where abouts of the boys.” Stevie spoke clearly and distinctly to Roger Simmons. 

“So what else did you find out when you questioned Pablo Cervantes?” Stevie turned to Bart Mullins when he asked the question.

“We were there to deliver a death notice, Detective Mullins. It felt inappropriate to question her son.” Stevie did not break eye contact with Mullins. Reggie felt the hair on his neck rise up. Here it comes, he thought. 

Mullins moved around his desk and came to stand in front of Stevie. 

“You were in the home of a Cervantes gang member, a higher up bastard I might add, and you did not interrogate him?” Mullins was so close to Stevie’s face that Reggie saw spittle land on her face. She did not flinch.

“I volunteered to deliver the death notice sir. And that is what we did.”

Mullins moved away from Stevie and turned to his detectives. 

“They call themselves detectives, boys. What are we going to do with these Seattle amateurs? Simmons, tell us what the investigation team found out about the cut wire.”

He sat down pompously at his desk and looked expectantly at his detective.

Simmons rose causing his chair to tip over. He grabbed for an armrest and righted the chair before it tumbled to the ground. He moved to the front of the room. Reggie smiled, secretly thinking that there were signs of amateurs amongst Mullins own team.

Fumbling with a remote, Simmons projected a picture of the wire found at the crime scene onto a screen at the front of the room. It was magnified two hundred percent and Reggie studied the unraveled wire.

“This wire had three lengths of twisted steel wrapped around each other. You’ll notice the inner wire looks like a straight cut while the other two wires look frayed. They couldn’t hold together once the inner wire was separated.”

“So what are you inferring?” Reggie spoke without thought.

Simmons glance over at Mullins and then looked at Reggie carefully. 

“I’m guessing the wire was cut before the boy took it up the tower. When he stepped out onto the wire with his full weight it came undone and he lost his balance and fell to his death.”

Reggie cut him off before he could say anything else. “And you said the frayed wire was on the south tower where the Cervantes kid started his walk?”

Simmons looked unsure. “Well, yes, that is what a crime scene investigator reported.”

“Then why the hell are you holding Jorge Gonzales here?” Stevie turned toward Mullins sitting smugly at his desk. 

Mullins stood and addressed Stevie. “Because, Miss, he is likely the one that cut the wire.”

“And he has admitted to that?” Reggie’s hand went out to touch Stevie. He wanted to reel her in. 

“A gang boy is never going to admit to a murder. We will have evidence soon enough.” Mullins sneered at Stevie.

“So, you are holding him without evidence. Is that right?” 

Stevie was face to face with Mullins again. Reggie couldn’t understand her desire to alienate them. What would it serve to have these detectives hate them more?

“Look, little lady, I don’t know what the law says up in the big city but around here I can hold him for forty-eight hours without cause. It doesn’t matter if he ends up being the perpetrator or the witness.” Mullins was just a hair shorter than Stevie but he spread his chest to gain a little extra height.

“I want to interview Jorge.” Stevie spoke defiantly.

Reggie stepped up alongside Stevie and asked, “May we talk to Jorge Gonzales, please sir?” He emphasized the ‘please’ and hoped he could diffuse the tension Stevie had caused. 

Mullins turned his back on Reggie and Stevie. He looked at his detectives. Reggie could see by their faces that he was giving them a sneering smile.

He did not turn around. “Knock yourself out. We will be watching on the monitors.”

                                       To Chapter Six

Complete

Complete Is Not The Same as Finished

I am intentional about watching sunrises. I drive to a looking place just minutes from my home and I wait. Each minute something changes. The clouds affect the colors, the water catches reflections of light, the birds move and take flight suddenly, and the sound of the waves make a soothing rhythm. When the sun comes over the horizon the sunrise is not finished but it is complete.

That cycle is complete. And so it us for us a children of God. We are never finished but we are complete, whole, when His grace allows us another day. I imagine what our earth looks like as it rotates around the sun. Half the time in darkness and then that return to the exposure of the sun. In German that return is called Umkehr. I picked that word to walk with me through 2018. I am always comforted by the sunrise and the return of day.

Crowd

In quiet moments when you think about it, you recognize what is critically important in life and what isn't. Be wise and don't let good things crowd out those that are essential. 

Richard G. Scott

What is essential?

Loving freely those in front of me is essential. 

I worry about fixing past mistakes and somehow finding the magic words to make right all that has gone wrong. 

That is not my job.

I can do right in this moment, say kindness about today, listen with my whole heart.

The Savior of my soul can go back in time and fix the ruts in my road. He can console those I have hurt and bring joy to their lives. He can speak peace to their hearts and help me show up when it is time to ask their forgiveness. 

I just need to be sure that I hear Him calling so I don't let the good crowd out the essential.

Rain

                      The Earth Is Parched

   No matter how wealthy you are around here, watering your lawn is not kosher. In a climate of healthy rainfall when it is summer and the rains stop, we don't water. 

  Another season is coming and even little children are heard saying, "I wish it would rain." And it will. But because we are fickle human beings we will soon be saying, "It has rained continually for a week. When will it stop?"

   The children of Israel get a bad rap for being fickle. I'm sure after the 25th day of manna from heaven I might say that the meat we had in Egypt would sure be good today. I makes me sad to think that the bondage would be forgotten in a moment of wanting something new. Tomorrow the rain is forecast and I will be hanging out the window to smell the fresh earth drinking, to hear the drops rebounding off the dry earth, and to see the green push out of the brown.

   Remember, remember how it once was.

Rush

Sometimes You Are Forced To Go Slow

For one month I've been forced to go slow, very slow. Sitting on the couch and looking out the window is becoming very tedious. Rushing is impossible. I am physically limited for a time.

  I'm learning that the natural world is actually very slow. Slow but steady. The rising sun can take forever to come over a mountain. The intensity, once it is over the hill, can be blinding so the slow warm up makes an important contrast. It teaches me to see and feel the process and appreciate the moment of rising.
  Very soon I will be back into the rush. Initially I will love moving quicker and I'm sure I will feel empowered by getting back to normal. But, I hope I remember the long slow days. I had time to figure a few things out. 

Chapter 4- The Gymnopédist

 

I took to my room and let small things evolve slowly.

Erik Satie

Two important events changed Miguel’s life. One was meeting Alex, the Boys Club volunteer who taught gymnastics and the other was having Mrs. Hanson teach him piano. Alex taught him balance and grace and Mrs. Hanson provided a soundtrack for his new found freedom to move. Both of these events were incongruous to his life as a poor Latino boy in Highland. Both activities were hidden from his family. His mother championed the piano lessons but his brother knew little of what he could really do on the keyboard. And, his mother she knew nothing about his wire walking.

Reggie walked over to the uniformed officer holding back the crowd behind the police tape. He turned his back to the people and spoke quietly to the officer. 

“So, what is your take on what went down here?”

The young man shifted uneasily in place. He glanced over at Bart Mullins. 

“I really can’t say, sir”

“I won’t repeat any information you give me. Do you think this is gang related?”

”I’d like to believe it was a horrible accident. But, I saw the wire the investigative team brought down from the tower. It was frayed but the inner break looked like a saw went through it.”

He glanced over at Bart Mullins again.

“It looks like they are taking the Gonzales kid into custody.”

 Reggie saw that Stevie was not right behind him. A circle of Highland police were walking the teenage boy over to a squad car and Stevie was in the middle of the huddle. He saw Detective Mullins pull her aside and they were having a serious conversation. It started with Stevie just listening and then she stood more erect and challenged him with her own opinion. Whatever she had said, he grunted assent and turned his back on her and proceeded to the car. He watched as Stevie stood to see the car move away from the crime scene. She looked more intense than he had ever seen her. Her body was stiff, hands clenched, and her eyes almost memorizing the scene of the boy being taken away. She turned and walked over to Reggie as if in slow motion. He watched the breeze lift her heavy auburn hair. Their eyes locked and he saw a new look of determination.

“Thank you for your help, officer.” Reggie smiled. He met Stevie and together they walked away from the crowd. The air was torrid and a shimmer of perspiration gathered between his shoulder blades.

He waited for her to speak. 

“I volunteered to go to the Cervantes house and inform them of the death of their son, Miquel.”

“What?” Reggie cocked his head to the side, unsure of what she had said.

“I told you. I know his mother, Rosa. I want this tragic news to come from someone she knows.” Stevie’s eyebrows separated, arching down in sadness.

“It didn’t look like Detective Mullins liked that idea.” Reggie moved the weight from his right side to his left. The day ahead looked to be intense.

“He agreed only because this is a job no one really wants to do.” Stevie met his eyes with a challenge. He knew she was not going to ask whether he agreed.

“Do you have the address?” 

“Yes, lets go then.” 

Stevie lifted the yellow police tape and waited while Reggie ducked under. They walked in silence to the car.

Rosa thought she was going to miss her bus. She looked around to find her purse. Today was an easier day. She had only two houses to clean this afternoon. Mrs. Hanson’s house first and then down the street she would clean the Rutherford’s house. She slipped on her working shoes with their thick soles. 

“Pablo? I’m leaving. Tell Miguel I’ll be home by 5:00 o’clock.” She turned to walk out the door but a loud knocking interrupted her movement. When she opened the door she found Miss Stephanie and a stranger who stood by her side.

 “What are you doing here?” Miss Stephanie had never come to her house before. Two worlds were colliding in front of Rosa and it meant something was very wrong.

“Rosa, can we come in?”

Rosa stepped aside woodenly. She watched as they sat together on the couch with the crocheted Afghan covering. I need to wash that. It looks tired and dirty, she thought. She perched on the arm of an over stuffed easy chair and studied Miss Stephanie’s face. Thoughts hurtled in her mind. This woman was a police officer. Why is she in my house? Maybe her mother had died. A pang of sorrow came up into her esophagus and turned bitter in her mouth. She loved Mrs. Hanson. Not only did she pay her generously but she was giving Miguel free piano lessons. A different thought came into her mind suddenly. What if this was about……..? No, she was not going to let that thought invade. 

“Miss Stephanie, is your mother alright?” Rosa’s voice was thin. 

“We aren’t here about my mother.” A sudden sob from Stevie choked off the next sentence. “Oh Rosa, I’m so very, very sorry to bring this news. Miguel fell from a high wire this morning and he is dead.” 

Rosa watched as Miss Stephanie knelt in front of her and felt her take her hands. 

“What high wire? What are you talking about?”

She pushed Stevie away and moved towards the door to the kitchen.

“Pablo! Come here please.” Her hands came up to keep the emotion from screaming through her mouth. “He will tell you where Miguel is and he is not…… dead.”

Pablo, his head almost touching the doorway, stepped into the living room. Rosa looked up at her older son to see if there was any understanding in his face. 

“Where is Miguel? These people here are telling me that he is dead.” The look on Pablo’s face was distrust but not denial. He came to stand next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “Miguel has been gone since early this morning. He didn’t tell me where he was going. He is probably with Jorge.” 

Rosa looked into Pablo’s eyes and noticed the hardness when he mentioned Jorge. 

“What were they doing together today?” Her eyes stayed on Pablo’s face, looking for information. 

“Their Boys Club activities have been getting more and more risky.” 

“Are you saying that this is true. He was doing a circus show?”

“It was wire walking, Mama.”

“You knew about this and didn’t tell me?” Rosa felt the hurt squeeze her heart. She was going to lose consciousness if she didn’t sit. Pablo led her back to the chair and Stevie moved over to the couch next to her partner. Rosa looked down at her hands and felt a moment of panic. She missed her bus! She would be late to work.

Pablo pulled a chair over to her side and looked down at his hands. “I am not Miguel’s keeper, Mama.”

He addressed Miss Stephanie. “Can you tell us what happened?”

“Miguel and a friend set up a wire between the bell towers in downtown Highland this morning at about 5:00 am.” 

Rosa heard the male policeman begin the story and she wrapped her arms around her chest. His voice continued but it was fading as Rosa struggled to understand.

“He was almost in the middle of the walk when the wire came down.”

She took Pablo’s hand and held it highly to her chest. 

“I don’t believe it! It could be someone else. Maybe you made a mistake.” 

Rosa looked the male policeman in the face. He seemed kind but how could he tell her this awful news and still be kind?

Pablo took his hand out of his mother’s grasp. “Where is Miguel now?” He asked.

“He was taken to Seattle where the medical examiner will investigate how he died.”

“What do you mean, how he died?” Pablo interrupted.

“We are doing a routine investigation.”

“I want to see him!” Rosa turned to Miss Stephanie. “Please, I want to see him.”

“I will help you with that. We will find out when that can happen. I’m so very sorry, Rosa.”

Rosa stood to go to get her purse.“I’m late to your house. I should be there by now.” 

“Not to worry. I’ll let my mother know what has happened. Pablo, will you stay with your mother today?” 

 “Of course! We don’t need police around helping us through this.” 

“Pablo! Her mother is my friend. She is here to help us.” Rosa looked at her son with reproach. He stood to walk into the kitchen. 

“You are her housekeeper, Mama, don’t forget that.” Pablo disappeared into the other room.

“I apologize for my son’s bad behavior, Miss Stephanie.”

“Here is my card with my private cell phone number. Call if you have any questions.” Rosa felt Miss Stephanie’s arms go around her but she couldn’t return the affection. She was going numb.

“Thank you for coming. We will call you.” As Rosa shut the door she slowly bent her knees and slumped to the floor. The room was moving and she willingly gave into the darkness. 

To Chapter Five

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