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Chapter Twelve
A Righteous Man's Prayer
"To every thing there is a... purpose under the heaven."
~ Ecclesiastes 3:1 ~
 or
some reason known only to the Providential planning of God, Clark Plumbing Service
and Supply saw so little business Thursday morning, that Adam left charge of the
store to Mike, while he went home to work in his garden.
Adam was dressed in his gardening overalls, bent over a tomato plant, and about to
reach for a spade, when the tool suddenly appeared in his hand. Adam looked up, only
to find Charlton, who had been quietly observing Adam as he worked in his garden.
"Hello," greeted Adam, surprised by Charlton's unannounced presence in
his backyard. Charlton nodded in response, and leaned back on the wrought iron fence
that ran the border of Adam's backyard. The silence of his visitor was at first disturbing
to Adam, but the longer Charlton remained mute, the more Adam realized there was
an unspoken war ensuing between the Alzheimer's and Charlton-- both battling to gain
control of his body. Not wanting to make his guest feel uncomfortable, Adam continued
with his gardening. "Look at these peas," observed Adam, pointing to a
long row of clinging vines that had grown over into the tomatoes, "give a pea
an inch, and they'll take over the whole garden!" Adam's joke had some effect
on Charlton, for his lips parted in a small smile. "Got to keep the peas in
their place," continued Adam, pruning back the unruly vines. When Charlton realized
that his presence had not made Adam feel uncomfortable, he ventured to make a short
remark about the weather. "Yes, it is good weather today," replied Adam.
Charlton was about to say something more, but hesitated, as if unsure what word he
was missing to complete his next thought. Seeing that Charlton was embarrassed, and
not wanting to show pity that would, doubtless, make his guest retreat from the yard,
Adam continued with his work in silence.
The sun slowly crept to the noon position in the sky, reminding Adam that it was
lunchtime by its stinging rays on his back. Adam looked to the spot where Charlton
had been standing, and upon seeing that he was no longer there, suddenly realized
that he was bent over in the tomato row, busily pulling weeds and small shoots of
grass that had migrated from Adam's lawn. "Thank you," smiled Adam, gratefully.
"Come on, let's clean up. I'll treat you to lunch," invited Adam, pulling
off his gloves and tossing them down on the green lawn.
"You don't have to do that," responded Charlton, who was unaware that it
was lunchtime.
"The workman is worthy of his hire," disagreed Adam, opening the back door,
and disappearing into the house. Charlton noticed Adam left the door open for him.
Charlton remembered how Frank, his longtime friend of several years, had acted uncomfortably
around him upon learning that he had Alzheimer's. Not wanting to repeat that same
feeling of desertion, Charlton had put up a wall, to guard himself from being hurt
again. But Adam was different. Charlton had sensed that the very first time he met
him. He didn't know why he felt drawn to Adam, nor did he understand the Divine Providence
that was drawing him, but the leading was there and could not be denied. Charlton
stepped out of the garden, stamped the dirt from his shoes, and went inside.
Adam was standing at the sink, rinsing off a lather of soap from his hands, when
Charlton closed the back door and stood, blinking, in the middle of the kitchen.
"It takes a while to adjust your eyes to the indoors," observed Adam, drying
his hands on a towel beside the sink, and stepping aside to let Charlton use the
sink next. While Charlton washed up, Adam opened the refrigerator and pulled out
a casserole dish of barbecue-glazed chicken. "My sister," said Adam, sliding
the casserole dish into the oven, "refuses to believe that I can live without
'home cooking,' so she makes these meals for me ahead of time." Adam placed
two plates on the kitchen table and returned to the refrigerator. "Seven Up
or Pepsi?" he asked his guest.
"Pepsi," replied Charlton, looking around the kitchen now that his eyes
had adjusted. "You have a nice house," observed Charlton, upon seeing the
marble counter tops and oak-finished cabinets lining the kitchen walls. "Jerome
mentioned that you're a plumber," continued Charlton, the words coming easier
now.
"Yes, I am," replied Adam, pulling out a chair at the table and opening
his can of Seven Up. Charlton did likewise, feeling relieved that the Alzheimer episode
was retreating. He was beginning to feel "normal" again. "What do
you do?" asked Adam.
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