Page 101 of Fatal Strike
“She seems to be eaten up with shame.”
“Shame is a very powerful psychological theme. It gets in the way of forgiveness. Weave it with rejection, and we get misery.”
Jon understood exactly what Father Gabriel meant. “One more thing: Dylan was shot during the firefight on board the ferry. I have no idea how badly.”
“It’s hard for me to believe Dylan would take money and treat Silvia with such disrespect. He didn’t learn a thing in prison.”
That was the most condemning word Jon had heard from Father Gabriel. “Reminds me of what my granddad used to say. ‘Son, when you learn a tough lesson, keep the receipt, because some lessons are too hard to repeat.’”
Father Gabriel chuckled lightly. “I’ll be using your granddad’s line. Appreciate your contacting me.”
Jon pocketed his phone and returned to Silvia’s side. Her eyes were red, her face puffy, and she radiated a grief that came from a source far beyond the physical fall. Taking her hand in his, he spoke silent comfort into the woman who was guilty of loving a son who’d broken her heart.
Leah sat with Silvia in the chilly emergency room. Silvia had nothing to say, a nasty brew of fear and grief. She’d received three stitches to her lower right leg and multiple scrapes due to the rough tumble—in far too many ways. Silvia contacted Warren and downplayed her injuries. She told him what happened, then asked him to wait for her call.
“I need time to think,” she’d said. “We can talk later.”
While they waited for a nurse to deliver and administer a tetanus shot, Leah tried to engage Silvia in a conversation. “Would you like to talk about this afternoon?”
“Jon asked the same thing. My son disappointed me.” Her chin trembled. “Somewhere he’s hurt, and I ache for him.”
Leah formed the words she needed to convey. “Silvia, I’m the one who shot Dylan.”
She buried her face in her hands. Sobs rose from whatappeared to be her soul. “I assumed you had. Did he shoot anyone?”
“He threatened the people on the ferry, but he didn’t open fire. The gunfire erupted from the speedboat that rescued him. When Dylan jumped, I shot him.”
“It’s all a nightmare, and I can’t wake up.” Silvia grasped her middle. “I’m going to be sick.” She walked to the sink and emptied the contents of her stomach.
Leah wet a paper towel and wordlessly handed it to her. Had her own mother reacted to Leah’s behavior like this? Had her mother regretted leaving her alone in a dressing room at the mall when her emotionally upset sister demanded she come home immediately?
Leah felt a sense of shame wash over her. Perhaps she had been justified in feeling hurt and abandoned in the moment. But hadn’t she done the same thing to her family, leaving them and cutting off all communication? And hadn’t she been miserable as a result?
As Silvia returned to her chair from rinsing out her mouth, Leah wondered what Father Gabriel would say to the hurting mother ... and to herself. She faced the distraught woman. “What is your faith, your God, saying to you?” An unusual subject for Leah, but the woman might share her feelings.
A tear trickled over her cheek, and she whisked it away with a bandaged hand. “I learned the value of faith from my parents. They moved here from Mexico when I was a young girl. My father was a dentist, and he opened his practice here in Galveston. My mother worked as his receptionist. They instilled in me the power of God and His sacrifice for us. Everything they earned above paying for basic needs went to the church. From them I learned no matter what life brings, He is always there.”
“Even now? In the midst of so much pain?”
“I trust God for His provision. And He’s telling me to forgive Dylan.” Silvia paused. “Do you know our heavenly Father?”
“Let’s say I’m researching Him.”
Silvia gave her a weak smile. “Faith isn’t about something you can see or document on a report. We’re human and clinging to God isn’t easy. It’s a choice, one we have to make on a daily basis, sometimes even minute to minute.”
Silvia had effectively reversed the conversation. Leah thought about Terri and how easily her friend had been able to forgive her for the silence she imposed on their relationship. Had Terri’s faith helped her find the strength to do so?
“And what about you?” Silvia said. “Are you allowing the poison of disbelief to stand in the way of your relationship with God?”
“When I see horrible crimes and compare them to a deity who’s supposed to be in control, I’m skeptical. Angry.”
“People aren’t perfect—” Leah smiled at that as Silvia continued—“and God gives us freedom to make our own decisions. I’m doing my best to hold on even though I want to sink into a pit of fear and despair.” Silvia touched her nose, and Leah gave her a tissue from the counter. “I must have made mistakes with Dylan to push him into breaking the law.”
Leah envisioned how Silvia must have nurtured her son. “I don’t think you taught him how to use a gun or rob a convenience store. He did those things on his own. You took him to church and taught him how to live life according to your beliefs.”
“No matter how many times I tell myself I did the right things, the guilt is still there. When you’re a mother, you’ll understand. We mothers can be illogical about our children and blame ourselves when they go astray.”
Did Mom and Dad blame themselves for her mistakes?
