Sacred Ground. Adrienne Ellis Reeves
parts of the house and how he loved working with wood.
When she’d started her drive for the clinic, she’d asked if she could use part of his property. “I have a feeling this is where it’s supposed to be,” she told him.
“We’ll see,” was his answer.
As the months went by she became deeply involved in the legal and medical requirements for a clinic, necessitating long conferences with a number of people in the business, and visiting the kind of clinic she thought would be appropriate. Many other community people helped, but she was the prime mover even though there was a board made up of Grayson residents.
Occasionally she’d talk with Mr. Zeke and mention the land she wanted to buy for the clinic. “The land’s not going anywhere,” he’d say.
The last time she’d spoken with him was a few weeks before his death. He hadn’t been ill and that time he’d said, “It’ll be here.” His death had been a shock to her and the rest of his friends. She’d been prepared to give him a down payment on the land and to get something in writing for the two of them. Now it was too late.
The whole town knew that his heir was a distant New York relative.
Makima was certain that she’d be able to negotiate with him because a New York man would have no interest in living in a small Southern place like Grayson.
She just wanted to be the first to meet him before anyone else had the same idea.
Chapter 4
The chirping of birds outside the window awakened Gabe with their unfamiliar sound. He never heard birds outside his apartment window. They must have been in his dreams.
Then he remembered. For the next three months he’d be awakening in his great-grandfather’s bedroom where he could look out of the window and see acres of land and trees.
Yesterday when they’d unpacked the car he’d chosen this room for himself in the hope that it and the office next door might give him some clue about what he was supposed to find.
Drew had taken the back bedroom and wondered where there’d be space for his belongings.
“The dresser drawers are full of blankets and the closet has clothes in it already,” he’d told Gabe.
“Put it all on the bed in the other room, because we’ll have to go through everything. Put it in neat piles, Drew. Don’t just throw the things on the bed,” he’d added, knowing his brother’s tendency to do just that.
Now he stretched, put his clasped hands beneath his head and contemplated his immediate future as he watched the trees moving gently in the March wind.
Had anyone told him a few months ago that he’d interrupt his and Drew’s lives to come to a nowhere town in South Carolina, he’d have told them they were out of their mind. Yet here he was, expected to look for something in this big house filled with the accumulated living of two people. He didn’t even know what it was he’d be looking for. How could he recognize it when he saw it? Drew thought it’d be a treasure like a chest of jewels or money, but Gabe didn’t think it would be anything so obvious.
Ezekiel’s mind was more subtle than that. His will had told Gabe that he was to explore, discover and carry out the treasured destiny the property had held for six generations. The word destiny was the most intriguing part of the whole business.
He’d marched along in his ordinary life not doing anything unusual from day to day, just going to his job, doing some volunteer work, hanging out with his friends Calvin and Webster, having two unsuccessful love affairs, and that was all until Pop and Ma had died. Their deaths had been the major events of his life and had left him with Drew and a new sense of responsibility.
Those were the facts of his existence so far. But destiny seemed to have a different meaning, like a course of action that had been determined way in the past and couldn’t be changed. You were chosen and you couldn’t escape it. You could turn and shake and wriggle and run but it caught up with you because it wasn’t happenstance. It was destiny.
Gabe felt the hair on his arms stand up. Destiny was a powerful word, a concept not to be taken lightly, he thought, as he lay in the bed of the man who had devised the term for him, Gabe.
Today was Sunday. He wasn’t a churchgoer except in the past when, on occasion, he’d escort his mother, but it might be a good idea to take Drew and walk over to the Grayson Community Church for its eleven o’clock service.
He needed to know the people here and what they could tell him about his great-grandfather. The best way to begin in this small town was at the church.
Also, he needed all the assistance he could get from whatever source if he was to carry out his destiny.
Makima got to church at ten-thirty. She loved being in the main auditorium by herself. She would sit in the corner, close her eyes and absorb the sense of peace and tranquility the sanctuary gave her. Her forbears had obtained the land and built the first church on this spot. Sometimes it seemed to her that she could feel their presence and their joy at how the church had grown to serve and nourish the community.
It was here that she’d finally come to terms with the senseless death of her sister. It was here that she came to pray over the knotty problems encountered with the clinic project. And it was here that she’d come for healing after Reggie had walked out of her life.
She hadn’t slept well last night. She’d dreamt that the flirt from the foundation had followed her to the restaurant and had tried to get her to sit at his table at the same time that the tall stranger in the black jacket had snatched their food away. She’d made herself wake up, got a drink of water, and eventually had gone back to sleep.
She hadn’t felt rested, so she’d paid special attention to her appearance as a way of getting herself in the proper mood for church. She dressed in a navy blue two-piece knit with white trim, navy pumps and perched a stylish confection of blue straw and ribbon on her hair.
Now as she sat with a bowed head, she prayed for a peaceful mind and spirit so she could ascertain God’s will for her next step about the clinic. Surely it was His will that such a facility be built, since its whole purpose was to serve the people. That being so, surely He would make it possible for her to obtain the land Mr. Zeke had promised her. She asked God’s blessing on her negotiations with the New York man, the heir to the property.
Makima lifted her head as she heard the first footsteps of people coming for the morning service. She slipped out the side door and made her way to the vestibule to her place as part of the welcoming committee whose function was to greet the worshippers.
An unbroken stream of people came up the steps where they were welcomed, handed a program and ushered through the double doors, which now stood open. Once the choir marched in they would be closed.
Makima greeted Miss Selina Moore, who was walking with a cane this morning. “Let me help you to your seat. Arthritis bad again?”
“It sure is, honey, but I wasn’t going to let it keep me from coming out. Your folks all right?” Miss Selina was a retired teacher who’d taught school when Makima’s father had been the principal.
“They’re fine. They had to go to Orangeburg today but I’ll let them know you asked about them.” She settled Miss Selina in her favorite seat and hurried back up the aisle.
The vestibule was crowded with almost-latecomers. Deacon Miller called her over.
“Makima, I want you to meet someone. This is Mr. Zeke’s great-grandson, Gabriel Bell, and his brother, Drew Bell. They’ve just arrived from New York.
“Gentlemen, this is Miss Makima Gray. She knows everything about our church and about the community, too.”
Makima felt the blood drain from her face as she met the eyes of the tall stranger from the restaurant. Only her iron will and pride kept her on her feet as she extended her hand to the Bells and made a polite response.