The Emperor's Men 3: Passage. Dirk van den BoomЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Rescued

      “Officer, you don’t even understand. If you leave Jackie there, Andrea will take it out on her. She’s so little. Please don’t leave her behind. We may never find her again. Oh, my God.”

      The agent says they will wait just a little while longer. He says they can come back another day. As stark terror takes over my being, I hear the agent say, “Wait, I think I see her. I’ll call you back.”

      A rainbow came out over my clutching fear when he said those words, and I thanked God for his mercy. I dropped to the floor again, feet under me, head bowed grasping the phone, waiting… Waiting—it seemed like forever, not daring to breathe. I pound my fists on the floor and beg God to place his hand on this situation, my mind racing ahead to what to do if they leave Jackie behind. Going crazy with fear and knowing I am losing it, the phone rings in my hand, and I jump.

      The agents says, “We got her.”

      The flood of relief that washed over me was like a rushing wind from heaven. My heart nearly burst. I heard his voice say, “I think she was expecting this. She just stood there on the sidewalk when one of the agents showed her the court order. She was holding Jackie’s hand, and she held her hand toward the agent and said, ‘Have a nice life with Daddy and Grammy.’ Jackie came willingly, so we’re on our way. We want to take the kids to eat before we board the plane. You have our flight information, so I guess I’ll see you soon in Sacramento.”

      To my hero I weep and whisper, “Thank you. God bless you, all of you. Thank you. Thank you. My hero says, very tenderly, “I know, I know.”

      I had to sit still on the floor for a while, completely exhausted. I tried to clear my head and grasp what had just happened. Surely it was a miracle.

      Soon we were on our way to the airport. The skies were gorgeous; our babies were on their way home; we had a big house for their homecoming; their father would be there to welcome them; and God was on his throne —all was right with the world. On the way to the airport, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to what we all had to go through to get to this point. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right, but this coming home today and all the people and events hinged on the decision of one person. The well-being and safety of three precious children rested with a woman who didn’t even like them, even saw them as a threat. And that person was Opal. I knew the kids lived in peril as long as they were with their mother. I couldn’t count the times I had rescued them. But grandparents have no rights, and motherhood is sacred in the state of California.

      I remembered a phone call between Laurene and myself while she was in Tulsa. I had been praying for an answer, begging for a sign, any way to help my babies. Laurene said in her sweet little voice, “Grammy, don’t you have savings accounts for all three of us? Could that help us?” There it was—“out of the mouths of babes.” Something clicked and gave me the idea to get legal help. It was the answer I had been looking for. I contacted their father and suggested we get a lawyer, and was he agreeable? He said go for it. So I found a family lawyer who was smart enough to notice on their divorce papers that neither parent was allowed to take any of the children out of state. Floyd and I sat in the attorney’s office and listened to this revelation. He then stated that Floyd, as their father, had the right to order her to bring them back. When I said she won’t, he immediately said she won’t have any choice; the courts and child protection will bring them back here. I was noticeably elated. It was hard for me to contain my exuberance, while Floyd sat conspicuously silent. The attorney says he will draw up the papers for the judge to sign, and he will need his fee. Depending on the court calendar, it shouldn’t take too long. He explained to me that even though I would be paying him for his services, Floyd and only Floyd was his client and that as the parent, Floyd had to sign the papers before anything would proceed. I said that was okay because their father and I both want the kids back.

      Floyd said, “Wait a minute.” He had to talk to Opal.

      Are you kidding? The lawyer tells Floyd to go ahead and think it over; his secretary will call when the papers are drawn up. Think it over? Once again, I realized how helpless I am. After that, Floyd began avoiding me and was unavailable for my phone calls.

      Finally, in desperation, I went to their house. Floyd came to the door and just stood there. I said, “Floyd, you know the papers are ready for you to sign at the lawyer’s office. He can’t take them to court without your signature. What’s wrong? You know the kids are suffering. You, of all people, know that.” He just stood there, and I could see Opal in the background. I reminded him of how Laurene looked when I saw her at Christmas time. “What’s the holdup? I don’t understand you. It’s all paid for, so it won’t cost you any money.” I said, “Opal has no rights here. I have no rights. You are the only one with legal rights to those kids.”

      He looked at me and said, “Yeah, I am, and it’s my right to think about it.” And he shut the door.

      Several months and many sleepless nights later, he called and said Opal gave him the okay. I didn’t question it; I just said, “Let’s go.” We met at the attorney’s office for the signing and began the waiting game.

      *****

      Now at the Sacramento airport, we all stare at the door where the kids will disembark. Even though I am extremely excited to see them, I hang back so that their father will be the first one they see. It is important that he gets credit for rescuing them, and I am content to be backup. Opal really hang back—so far back that we can hardly see her. It is evident she wants nothing to do with this. As each one appears, the shouts of welcome surprise and please all three. They each hold stuffed animals, and Dad wraps his arms around each one with a great big papa bear hug then all three at once, all with his newest son hanging on his back and arms around his neck. Their faces go from wonder to surprise to excitement to laughter to me. I drink in the beauty of my grandchildren who are the subjects of endless prayers. God, they are balm for my crying eyes. Each one breaks away and runs to me, and I kneel down to enfold each child after all this time, holding them, not willing to let go. That is when I feel the healing begins. Wet kisses for Grammy and I miss you so much are tucked away in my heart to this day.

      Jackie and little JR are bald. Laurene’s hair is only a half-inch long. She told me later that they had lice, so their mother shaved their heads, and when she got to Laurene, Grandpa said no. He said you can’t send a little girl to school with a bald head. So she clipped it short and told this little one to comb the lice out herself. Their clothes are a little shabby, and Laurene told me later that their mother would take them to churches and sent them in to ask for clothes.

      When we get to my house, Floyd and his new expanded family decide to take the agent’s advice and stay for a few days to bond with Laurene, JR, and Jackie. He told me later that one of the agents took him aside and said that a bonding period of at least a week was necessary after what his kids had been through. I know Opal doesn’t like me at all, so I am surprised that she agrees to stay. The kids are so happy, and not once do they even mention their mother. I take them shopping for clothes and shoes and make sure the house is stocked with all their favorite foods. Laurene takes great joy in throwing all their old belongings in the trash. She insists on taking them all the way out to the street so they will not find their way back. When I wake up in the morning, all three little ones are