The Twelfth Child (Serendipity #1)(52)
When the heaving and sobbing had eased off to a trickle of tears and a puff of air that she’d suck back every so often, Mister Blessing said, “You got a notion to tell me what sort of troubles is weighing on you?”
Destiny started sobbing all over again.
“I got plenty of time,” he said and patted her hand real soft.
When she was finally dry-eyed enough to talk, she poured out the whole story; she told Elijah Blessing that we’d been the best of friends, like mother and daughter she said. Then she went on to explain how I’d died without a proper will and how the police now thought she’d swindled away my car and money.
He listened to every word, not once did he interrupt or remind her that she’d already told him this or that part. Instead he sat there patting her hand and listening with every ounce of hearing he had. When she finally finished, he said, “The Good Book can show a person the pathway to righteousness, but Missy, I believe you need a lawyer.”
“Maybe it’s nothing more than Elliott trying to cause trouble,” Destiny replied. “Perhaps I’m making more of it than need be; Detective Nichols did say they would assign a lawyer if I needed one.”
“You don’t want one of those lawyers!”
“Why not?”
“Why not? Because you need somebody who’s gonna stand up and fight them bureaucrats! Last year my boy got arrested for robbing a liquor store. He never did no such thing, but he could of been sent to prison for life if it weren’t for that lawyer who proved he was home studying. In matters such as these, the truth needs to be dug up and aired. Now, the only person capable of doing that is an honest lawyer.”
“You mean –”
“I ain’t saying those charity lawyers are out and out no good, but they got a lot of other stuff going on and they ain’t always got time to pay full attention to your problems. Missy, the Good Lord is always willing to lend a hand, but you gotta give him something to work with.”
“Your son, did he have an honest lawyer?”
“Sure did. If it wasn’t for Charles McCallum, there’s no telling what would have happened to my boy.”
“Charles McCallum?”
“Yes, ma’am. He’ll give you the kind of lawyering you need!”
“You think he’d be willing to represent me?”
“I sure do. Mister McCallum, he’s got a Christian heart. He won’t stand for nobody getting railroaded by a bunch of bureaucrats.”
When I saw how Elijah Blessing was reaching out to help Destiny, I had a truly joyous heart. If I was still walking the face of the earth, I’d have latched hold of Mister Blessing’s skinny face and planted a kiss on it. Why, that man even gave Destiny one of his bright red Bibles free of charge; he told her that along with Mister Charles McCallum, she could trust in the miracles of the Lord, seeing as how he had parted the Red Sea for Moses.
Destiny was so touched by his gesture; she bought three more Bibles and set them on the top shelf of the new bookcase she’d purchased from Sears and Roebuck.
The morning after Elijah Blessing told Destiny she ought to have a lawyer; she called Charles McCallum’s office and made arrangements to see him in the afternoon.
Thank Heaven, I thought; figuring that, at the very least, Destiny was switching herself onto the right track. With Mister McCallum being such a well spoke of lawyer, I anticipated he’d be a silver-haired man with a great big office and four secretaries typing fast as their fingers could fly. Of course that wasn’t the case. He was young – to look at him you’d guess nineteen or twenty, but according to the diploma hanging on the wall, he had to be closer to thirty or thirty one – a bit gangly, rumpled hair that made you wonder if maybe he’d forgotten to run a comb through it. Right away it struck me how he was so like my brother Will – the same smile, the same loose-jointed way of moving from one spot to another as if there was no hurry whatsoever. I loved Will dearly, but I’d hoped Destiny’s lawyer would be a powerful man with a booming voice, someone who could stand in front of a jury and demand that justice be done. I looked at how small Mister McCallum’s office was – two rooms, him in one and a woman struggling with some hunt and peck typing in the other – and started worrying again.
Being the problem was of such a serious nature, you’d have thought Destiny would get dressed up proper; maybe wear one of those new outfits that were hanging in her closet with a price tag still dangling from the sleeve. But Destiny is just Destiny, and she’s not the kind to put on airs, so she showed up at two-thirty wearing blue jeans and a real pretty pink tee-shirt. Despite the way she was dressed, Mister Charles McCallum’s eyes lit up like he’d caught sight of an angel when she walked into the room.
“You must be Destiny Fairchild,” he said, scrambling out of his chair and nearly tripping over his own feet.
She smiled and nodded then when she stretched out her hand, Mister McCallum took hold like he was afraid she’d get away. “Would you like something cold to drink?” he asked.” Soda? Juice? Water?”
“A Pepsi would be great.”
Charles McCallum called out to the typist, “Gracie, would you please bring us a couple of cold Pepsis?”
“I didn’t get Pepsi!” she hollered back. “It’s cream soda or beer.”