Page 10 of Blessings in Disguise

“One of the many things I learned as a pastor. Now go. I’ll let Freddie know you had to leave for a bit.”

Holding hands, the two of them walked out the door.

Caleb dropped down in one of the kitchen chairs. He believed what he told Maisy about the baby but this was his sister! He didn’t think he could live though any more loss.

Don’t go down that road. You tell everybody not to buy trouble. Follow your own advice.

Again, that wasn’t God talking to him. It was his own mind reassuring him. He’d listen to it.

* * *

The next time Caleb met with Harlan, they were outside on a bench under a copse of trees. And he brought a sketch book. It was a 9x12 spiral with a black cardboard cover.

“What’s that for?” Caleb asked.

“I, um, draw what I feel. I been using it all year.”

“Ah. Does it help?”

He shrugged.

“Would you share it with me?”

“You can see it.” Gingerly, Harlan handed the book to him.

Caleb prepared himself mentally for what he might see. “Would you mind if I start at the beginning?”

“Go ahead.”

On page one, he’d drawn a dragon. The fantastic animal filled the page. Its open mouth revealed sharp teeth. Its tail seemed to be swishing. And it was standing on its hind legs with his paws showing sharp claws. Caleb realized it nearly made him afraid.

Another page was filled with sharp knives of all kinds. Another had swords and symbols Caleb didn’t recognize.

After several pages of dragons and weapons, Harlan had drawn a muscular teenager in exquisite detail. He had longish brown hair, like Harlan’s. His brown eyes were shuttered and he was frowning. More symbols and swords, then guns and rifles. Interspersed with all of those were drawings of the dragon in various poses. Sometimes it was small. Sometime big. Often, fire breathed out of its mouth.

On the last pages, the dragon was extra-large and stood in front of asmallfigure of a boy. The next showed the dragon’s claws reaching out. Then the boy lay on the ground and the dragon hovered over him.

The last thing he’d drawn was the boy. Holding a knife. To his own throat.

Caleb said, “Wow. These are evocative.”

“What does that mean?”

“Suggestive of something else.”

Harlan gave a rueful laugh. “You think?”

Caleb stared at him. “Who’s the dragon?”

Harlan looked down and kicked the dirt under the bench.

“Is it your father?” Caleb asked softly.

Nothing. Then, a brief nod.

“It’s therapeutic to pour your emotions out this way, Harlan. Do you think he’s gonna hurt you?”

“No. I’m as big as him now.”

---