Mission Impossible

Larry Rodgers heard a tap on his front door. He dismissed it. There it was again. They weren’t going away. He dragged himself off the couch and staggered to the front door. Three teenage boys stood on his porch. He opened the front door, leaving the screen door locked. He fixed a frown on his face. At his age, he didn’t like his afternoon nap disturbed. “What ever your sellin’ I ain’t buyin.” He started to shut the door.

“We’re not selling anything, Mr. Rodgers. We…my friends and I we’d like to paint your house. For free, that is.” Cark Harris said nervously. “We…even buy the paint.”

“Why,” Rodgers said. There had to be a catch somewhere.

“We’re from the church on the corner and, well…our youth group we…”“No. I don’t believe in your God. As a matter of fact, I don’t believe there is a God. I’m an atheist.” Larry started to shut the door.

“That…that’s okay. We buy the paint and everything.” Cark said backing to the edge of the porch. The other two boys were already on the sidewalk, facing the house.” You…you don’t have to buy a thing. We…”

“I said no. Now get off my porch.” He slammed the door and watched through the window as the three teenage boys ambled across the street.

“There’s got to be a catch somewhere.” He mumbled to himself. “Bet they want my money. Well, you can’t have it. And I ain’t coming to your church.” He tried to go back to sleep but couldn’t.

He ate his dinner alone. Afterward, he fell asleep in front of the TV. His dreams troubled. He was in a pit. He couldn’t get out. No matter how hard he tried.

The next morning, he sat at the kitchen table eating cereal when he heard voices. He liked to leave his windows open at night in the summer.  It saved on air conditioning. Then singing. A Christian song. Something about grace. He looked out his front window and saw a bunch of teenagers holding hands and singing. He slammed the window shut. “I will not listen to that all day.”

Throughout the morning, he watched them climb all over Amy Watson’s house. They painted the front. In the afternoon, a roofer showed up and began repairing the roof. Tearing off the old and replacing it with new. Suddenly the thought came to him: they offered, you refused.

“I don’t need a new roof, but the old gal could sure use a coat of paint.” He said watching the teenagers paint the front porch. Three days later Amy’s house gleamed with fresh paint, a new roof, and the boys even mowed and trimmed the yard. He watched Amy serve them cake and cookies. “That could have been me.” He said under his breath. But they had not finished. The next morning several teenage girls came and planted flowers around Amy’s porch. She came out and sat on her porch swing, talking with them. When the last flower was in the ground, they gathered with her on the porch. Leaving, they waved at her. When he was sure they weren’t coming back, he ambled across the street. Amy still sat on the swing. “What did they charge you for this?” He pointed to the house and yard with his walking stick.

Amy looked at this old atheist and decided to have some fun with him. “Hundred thousand dollars.” She said, smiling.

He stared at her, his mouth hanging open. “What do you think, Larry? Not one red cent. Zero nothing. They did this for nothing but my thanks.”

Larry whirled around, almost falling. He marched down the sidewalk, mumbling to himself. He came to the walk in front of the church. Suddenly the front door burst open. Leading the charge was Cark Harris. He stopped when he saw the face of the neighborhood atheist.

Cark’s smile faltered. “Mr.…Mr.…Rogers, it’s good to see you,” Cark said. The group of teenagers gathered behind him as if they were facing an enemy.

“You can paint my house. But don’t trample my wife’s roses. She planted them just before she died and I don’t want them hurt.” He turned around, heading for home. “And don’t slop paint everywhere.” Cark called to him.

“What color?”“What?” Larry turned around to face this teenage boy.

“What color would you like us to paint your house? We have to buy the paint.” Cark said.

Larry smiled. It would be fun to tell this kid pink. Instead, he told him. “The same color I painted it twenty years ago. White with blue trim.”“Thank you. We’ll start tomorrow morning. If that’s ok.” Cark said.

“Fine.” Larry returned to his home.

He waited the next morning. They didn’t show at 8.  9 came, then 10, finally 11. “Just as I thought. It was all a come-on. They lied to me.” At eleven fifteen, he saw a group of girls at Amy’s house. He charged across the street. He would tell these kids a thing or two. They had their heads bowed and were kneeling in a circle, holding hands. He waited, steaming. They deceived him. He crossed his arms, waiting for them to finish.

“And…and …Lord bless …the little…boy.” The girl broke down weeping.

One girl raised her head. “Oh…Mr. Rodgers. I…I didn’t see you. Would it be…alright if…we do your house next week?” She said, tears glistening on her cheeks. “Cark…Cark was…killed last night.”

Larry stood there, his mouth hanging open. All the fire had gone out of him.

“How? How was he killed? He finally managed to say in a quiet, small voice.

The weeping girls gathered around Larry. “He…he was …on his way from the hardware store. When a little boy ran out in front of him…him.” She dissolved into tears.

“He hit a tree and…and…was killed.” Another volunteered.

“No …he…died in ER. “Another said haltingly. “He missed the little boy by a foot.”

Larry had heard enough. He returned to his house and sat on the couch. He stared out the window. Seeing nothing, he remained seated there for a while. He became an atheist in college. “I don’t believe in you. I can’t believe in you.” There was no answer. “My wife believed in you.” He looked at the clock. Noon. He should go fix some lunch, but he wasn’t hungry. Tears leaked from his eyes. They ran down his cheeks unbitten and dripped off his chin. He quietly said, “I don’t believe in you.”

They held the service for Cark three days later. Larry found a spot on  the back pew. He felt uncomfortable sitting in this church. He always, even when his wife attended it, called it the gospel box. Larry wore his best suit; in fact, his only suit. He used to make fun of his wife for attending this church. A woman was playing a tune on the piano.

Cark lay in a casket at the front of the church. He wore a suit and tie. A man approached Larry. He extended his hand. “Mr. Rodgers. Thank you for coming. I’m Wayne Harris. Cark’s father. Cark thought highly of you. He used to pray for you every morning. “Larry couldn’t think of anything to say. Finally, he said. “He…he seemed like a fine young man.” Wayne smiled a sad smile. He was. Received Christ when he was 10. Would you mind being one of the pallbearers? We would be honored.

Larry looked at this grieving father. “Are…are you sure?”

“Please. Clark would like that.” “Ok. If, you’re sure.” Larry said, getting to his feet, he followed Wayne down to where 5 teenage boys sat. This is not happening, Larry kept telling himself. He looked at Cark lying in his casket. The boy appeared to be sleeping. A teenage girl came up to the pulpit. From somewhere. Possibly on a tape came the music and the words he had heard them singing at Amy’s house. ‘Amazing Grace how sweet the sound that saved a wrench like me.’  

The music ended, and Wayne Harris stepped to the pulpit. “Thanks Cindy. Cark loved that song. One reason it personified his life.” He stopped and wiped his eyes. “I think one reason is it embodied everything in his life. In January, he approached me and asked what he could do to make his summer meaningful. I asked him what he thought he and the youth group of the church could do. He said he would like to help the older people in the neighborhood. So the next week he started a campaign to raise money.” Here Wayne stopped and wiped his eyes again. “I asked him if he just wanted to help the members of the church and he said no. He said he would give of himself as Christ gave Himself for the world.” He stepped off the platform and touched the arm of his son lying in the casket. “Son, I believe you accomplished that.”  

Returning home, Larry sat on the couch, staring out the front window. The white paint on Amy’s house gleamed in the sun. What am I living for? The question came to his mind. He had no answer. He went to bed that night, distressed. In his dreams, Cark lived again. “Paint your house for you, Mr. Rodgers? It’s free.” Then he was blown away. The next time he saw him, he was in his casket. Larry woke in a cold sweat.

The next Monday morning dawned bright and clear. At 8 there was a knock on Larry Rodgers’ front door. Wayne Harris stood on the porch, surrounded by a group of teenagers. Larry stepped out onto the porch. Wearing jeans and a shirt spotted with paint, Wayne smiled at him. “Good morning, Mr. Rodgers. I hope we’re not too early. We wanted to get started before it gets too hot.” Larry looked at the smiling boys and girls. The paint cans they carried seemed to be dented. The thought struck him. Cark was on his way home with the cans of paint in the trunk when he was killed.

“No…no… you’re not too early.” Larry stammered.

“Please show us where your wife’s roses are,” Wayne said. Larry indicated the two scrawny bushes next to the porch steps. Wayne carefully covered them in plastic sheeting. Larry went back into the house to dress. Quietly he heard the girls singing as they worked. He heard a mower. A boy of 15 or 16 was cutting the lawn. Larry went out and sat on the porch swing, watching them work. Amy came over carrying a pitcher of iced tea.

They finished the house and yard by Wednesday. Wayne same to the door. “Mr. Rodgers, We are almost finished.” If there is something we missed, please point it out. We’ll take care of it. Also, if you would like, we have a man in our church who owns a fencing company. He will put a fence of your choosing on your property for free.”Tears came to Larry Rodgers’ eyes. “Why are you doing this? I told your son I’m an atheist.”

“ I ask my son the same thing. Why he wanted to do this for the neighborhood. You know what he told me?” Wayne said with a sad smile.

Larry shook his head.

“He said because Christ loved us, we are to love others.” That day on his porch swing, Larry received Christ. He was no longer an atheist.