Nike Murphy's friends did not want her son Wale to attend the funeral of his father and brother. They believed that a twelve-year-old boy ought to be spared such a grim ordeal. Wale insisted, however, and when he wanted to say one last goodbye to his father and brother, no one could thwart him.

That Friday, was the worst day of his life, even more distressing than the preceding Wednesday when he and his mom had received the news from the doctors of his brother and father's death. Some of the anesthetizing shock had worn off, and Wale no longer felt numb; his emotions were closer to the surface and less easily controlled. He was beginning to realize how much he had lost, and there was only one person to blame, the one who calls himself the Almighty.

He claimed to be all knowing but yet couldn't see the hurt the death of his father and brother would bring to him. His brother was in the choir and loved singing to God while his father was one of the ministers, they were always happy and it seemed nothing could take away the peace that rested in their hearts. They always spoke highly about God and how His love is big enough for everyone in the whole world, but he guessed they had it all wrong.

He opened his closet and chose a dark blue shirt because his brother had always hated black shirts. He looked across the room to his brother's neatly laid bed and his eyes later fell on his brother's Bible on his lamp stand; he still couldn't believe Jason was gone, he couldn't believe he wouldn't get to see his brother anymore neither would he be there on his graduation. The thought made him angry and he walked over to the lamp stand and threw the Bible in the drawers, there wouldn't be any need for that anymore.

A God who could take away a brother and father from a twelve year old wasn't worthy to be prayed to anymore, if he didn't help then he definitely won't help now and with that he stomped out of the room.

At the funeral home, Wale sat in the front between his mother and Mrs. Chioma Williams the minister's wife who had done some charity work with his dad some months ago. She was in her late fifties who touched Wale reassuringly and watched him with concern. He hated the pitiful look everyone showed him, yet they still came to church and prayed to the same God who took everything away from him.

He felt as though he couldn't breathe in the room, the more he stared at the two caskets in front of him the more he felt suffocated. He had never been to a funeral home before, even when his grand parents died, his dad didn't want him going to the funeral home; but now that he was here he did not like it one bit. As the minister approached the lectern to the left of the caskets, Nike Murpy his mom leaned close to Wale. "Are you okay, sweetie?"

"Yes. I'm fine," he said, but he did not look up at his mom. She would know at a look he was far from fine. As he listened to the minister speak on how nice and loving his father and brother was, his lower lip trembled. He bit his lips. If he cried, he'd be doubting himself, it meant he had giving in and God had won. By crying God will see his weakness, and he have to prove he's stronger than that. He wasn't going to let God see him cry, see him hurt; not like he cared either ways.

From the funeral home they went to the cemetery.

The graveyard had no headstones. The plots were marked by bronzed plaques on marble bases set flush with the ground. The rolling green lawns, shaded by huge mangoes trees and smaller shrubs, it might have been mistaken for a park, a place to play games and run and laugh- if not for the open graves over which Bob Murphy and Jason Murphy's caskets was suspended. People went in to drop flowers and as they passed touched him and murmured reassurances, but he was not comforted by anything they said or did.

A bleak future deepened with each word of the minister's final prayer, until he felt as if he was standing unclothed in the harmattan instead of in the shade of a tree on a hot, windless October morning.
The funeral director activated the motorized sling on which the caskets were suspended. Bob Murphy and Jason Murphy's body was lowered into the earth.

Unable to watch the slow descent of the caskets, having difficulty drawing breath, Wale turned away, slipped out from under the caring hands of his mom and the minister's wife, and took a few steps across the cemetery. He was as cold as marble; he needed to escape and he ran not thinking about anything, the soles of his shoes were slippery and several times he nearly fell. But he kept going only sparse, pale grass grew under the laurels, beyond the reach of the sun.

The grove was comprised of perhaps hundred trees, the branches were densely interlaced, allowing sunlight through only in thin golden threads; as if the fabric of the sky had begun unraveling into the woods. Surface roots and treacherous shadows sprouted everywhere. He stumbled, grabbed the trunk of a tree to avoid a bad fall, regained his balance and finally stopped as soon as he reached sunlight, which felt warm on his skin but which failed to relieve his chills. He could still hear the distant calling of his mom but he chose to ignore. All he wanted was to be alone, the way God had made it to be.

**********************************
Three years After

"So Mr Adams how are finding the kids?" An elderly woman in her mid fifties asked as she adjusted the glasses on her face.

"Fine, fine they are warming up to me. Well except Wale, he seem distant and aggressive like he's carry so much anger in him."

"Just leave Wale and focus on the other kids."

"But- why ma'am?" Adams asked a little bit puzzled while the woman scrutinized him for while before replying.

"Take my word for it. He's a sinking ship and if you want to dive in be my guest."

With that Adams walked out of the principal's office with his forehead furrowed. 'Why would a kid who's in his teens be known as a sinking ship?' He wondered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ok that's the bell pass your notes forward." Adams said. "And urmm Wale take the notes to my office and wait for me." Wale walked away in an abrupt manner.

"So I see you didn't do well in the test." Adams said as he settled on his chair flipping through Wale's notes. "You are one of those with the least score and yes I haven't marked it yet but I can tell." His reply answered Wale raised eye brows who stood still. Adams continued.

"Wale those questions were easy and I'm surprised you couldn't answer at least five of them." He paused and stared at Wale's reaction who didn't flinch, then he continued "Judging from your past records it should have been as easy as pie. I took the liberty to go through all your grades from junior high till now, you were an excellent student" Wale remained silent.

"Wale am talking to you."

"I don't like English." He finally said.

"But you speaking it." He forced a smile even though it was noticeable but Adams was pleased.

"Which subjects do you like then?"

"None of them." His brows grew together.

"You should. Don't you want to grow to be just like your dad?" Sadness clouded his features and Wale stomped out leaving Adams confused.

By the time Adams reached the teacher's lounge he was contrite enough to relate his whole conversation with Wale to his colleague Jane who was cleaning up the mess of a spilled drink on the table. Ever since he joined the school Jane was the only person that seemed friendly; most of the other staffs always showed a grumpy attitude, moreover other than him Jane seemed like she really cared for the kids. "And then he walked out of the office without saying a word. I really don't know what I said wrong."

"Wale is a strange kid." Jane said and added, "He's been through a lot so I heard and no one wants to get mixed up with his emotions. At least he spoke to you, the highest I've gotten is a" ... she scrunched up her face and Adams let out a light chuckle.

"What exactly happened to him?" Adams asked concerned.

"Heard it was a car accident. Both father and brother died."

"Oh dear." Thoughtfully Adams glanced in the direction of the hallway. "Now I feel even worse bringing his father into the conversation." Adams sighed.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, you weren't aware."Jane replied with a mouthful of crackers and continued, "I think you are the only one who has a chance with Him, God sent you here for a reason. The boy needs saving, don't give up on him like the rest." She rested her hands on his shoulders and walked away.

Adams thought to himself as he sat alone on the table. "Lord, help me deal with this," he pleaded in a prayer born of sympathy. "I'm way out of my depth here, lead me please."

Wale's relationship with his mother wasn't any different. He'd locked her out. It was best that way. Although he felt bad when he saw her cry he wouldn't want to go through the same pain all over again. It was better to keep people out before you get too close to them and then they are taken away from you at the snap of a finger. Not anymore, he won't let his guard down neither would he be vulnerable to emotions.

Weeks later Adams tried his best to win Wale over. The frequent visits to his office paid off. Wale was suddenly interested in the comic book Left Behind and always went back to Adams for the next series. They soon became good friends and Adams was glad God was helping him one way or the other. Most times he had always wanted to bring up the issue concerning Wale problems and fears, but something held him back and he thought it wasn't the right time.

Their closeness made Adams realized he lived two streets away from Wale and would sometimes invite him for teenagers program in his church. Wale was nonchalant about his request at first but later visited still with an uninterested attitude. One afternoon after service, as they sat in the congregation Adams asked.

"Wale do you believe in God?"

"Well I don't know. I used to."

"Why did you stop, did God offend you?"

He didn't even know if God existed anymore because if he did his dad and brother would still be here with him. Wale had never been able to accept their accident as God's will, as it had been suggested to him at the time. How could the loving, caring God his parents worshipped end his brother and father's life so abruptly and inflict such a raw grief and irreconcilable loss on him and his mother? It still hadn't made any sense to him.

"Wale?" Wale pulled himself back to the present. Adams seemed to be waiting for him to speak, but Wale didn't know how to start.

"You look troubled. Its ok Wale I can help you out."

Wale could brush it off if he chose. And he didn't think Adams would push the issue. Yet the man had opened the door for further discussion, if Wale wanted to walk through. Once before, he had been tempted to share his feelings with Adams. There was an innate goodness about him, a kindness, that invited confidences.

That suggested he could listen with understanding and empathy, withholding judgment. Wale had resisted the temptation last time. But much had changed since then, he sees Adams more as a friend and confidant.

Raking his fingers through his hair, Wale looked back at Adams.

"I haven't been to church for a long time. I guess God must have forgotten about me," he forced a smile and continued, "That's if He's there though, my mom just stopped caring after the accident." He paused.

"I lost my dad and brother the same day and it was all my fault, I shouldn't have sent them out that night. And I blame God for letting it happen. My dad always went to church we believed in Him so much and He disappointed me. I miss them so much you know, my brother and I were really close even if we fight over little things or tease each other, my brother would always be there for me. When they were in the hospital I prayed hard, a lot of other family members prayed also. I figured God had to listen to all those voices. That surely he wouldn't let them die, even when things started getting worst I kept believing. I just believed God would save them even if it took a miracle."

The expression on Wale's face and bitterness etched his voice like acid on metal. "I was wrong, they died and I wouldn't accept it. For weeks afterwards, I was distraught. Everyone thought I'll just get over it but I couldn't. 'How could God let that happen?' I kept asking myself and everyone around but nobody had an answer and that made sense to me. I stopped taking God's word to heart and turned my back on God. My mom was too mired in her own grief to help me deal with mine. I felt like drowning. And I could only stay afloat if I pretended it never happened and bury my pain so much it can never hurt again. But I was wrong about that too, its still there and it always hurt."

Even before Adams spoke, Wale felt deep caring and compassion in the hand that was placed on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry for your looses, Wale."
Blinking back the tears in his eyes Wale asked.

"So why does God let good people die? My dad and my brother were everything to me. He left me all alone. I thought he was God to stop bad things, tell me Mr Adams why?"

The question was turned right from the heart, and Adams turned his anguished with one that was steady, direct and honest.

"There's no answer to that question, Wale. People have struggled with it through the ages, and many just like you have turned away from their faith because of it. But I can tell you this, while God blesses us with wisdom and intelligence our intelligence is not match to understand the mysteries of God ways. Trying to understand God is like trying to build a castle with only sand and water. Or is like attempting to make a life drawing from just paper and pencil. We are just not right for the job. Its an exercise in vain."

Adams leaned forward, his expression earnest.

"Once we learn and accept the most crucial truth that God loves us and recognizes he sent his son to save us- the zeal for answers becomes far less of an obsession. We can learn to trust God in goodness without fully understanding His ways. And that trust opens to the many gifts with which He blesses us with and allows us face tomorrow with hope."

As Wale pondered Adams' words, he turned to stare at the cross. He never thought of the events in his life in that much context. He knew he'd lost in other ways, when his brother and father was taken he place inside him were hope and faith cling died too. He'd operated on a single rule: Don't form attachments that could be severed in an instant, don't kill yourself working on something that can be snatched tomorrow. Don't honor an uncaring God. But if Mr Adams was right, there was still hope.

He could put his trust in the Lord and embrace tomorrow, accept the gift that God sent his way. In other words now he want to live with purpose rather than just exist. Wale looked at Adams and gave him a tight hug.

"Thank you sir, thank you for not giving up on me."

"Anytime and thank you for opening up to me but first thank God for not giving up on you. He loves so much he couldn't just watch you wallow in pain and hate yourself. He has so much plan ahead of you."

And Adams assured him that he wasn't alone. Adams invited Wale and his mom for the Sunday service. After much persuasion Wale's mom finally agreed.

Wale and his mom did their best to slip into the spot without attracting notice, but as they took their seats, Adam glanced his way from the choir stand. The smile he gave Wale chased away any lingering fountain about his welcome, and he acknowledged Adams with a big smile while his gave a discreet nod.

To his surprise, the hymns and prayers and readings from the Bible called up happy memories for Wale. The Reverend had moved to the pulpit and launched into his sermon.

"Dearly beloveth, coming to church is easy. Living our faith is hard. But both are crucial. Let us remember that when we leave here today, the Lord goes with us. Our faith is not in these four walls, but in the Spirit living within us. As we go our daily lives, let's remember that the Lord walks with us not only on Sunday but on everyday of the week. May we live accordingly so that we don't disappoint Him..."

Wale bowed his head. He supposed he had disappointed the Lord. And he knew now a life that lacked God lacked purpose, direction and meaning. Because he demanded answers were there were none or none that he could understand as Adams pointed out. He'd put God to test and in his mind God had failed. Wale acknowledged, by not putting his trust in God, by not placing his anguish in God's hands, he turned away from the one true source of consolation. That had been his mistake.

He knelt down and said a silent prayer about forgiveness he felt his mother joined him. He was pleased. He would be eternally thankful to his teacher and friend for giving his family a second chance. And he was sure his father and brother would be proud looking at him from heaven.

Thanks to the healing of God's grace and a faith to hold.

~THE END

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*Thank you for taking the time to read this, I uploaded this for the one shot contest (which by the way this book came in second *happy face*)

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Thanks, God bless!!