The Passenger by Jacqueline Druga (the giving tree read aloud TXT) 📗

“It sounds wonderful.”

“Bet it sounds better inside. What do you say we go in for the reprise? I really liked that song. I’m interested in hearing it closer.” Joe stood and held out his hand. “We’ll sit in the back. No one will see us. Let’s go hear your son and watch him play.”

Cate took his hand and stood. She set her coffee cup on the bench.

They started walking towards the church, the pastor was speaking over the soft music. Which told Cate he was wrapping up.

Joe stopped walking just before he entered the church. “Well, how about that. I just thought of another thing your son has done.”

“What’s that?”

“When I lost my own boy, I stopped going to service. I said I would never walk into a Sunday Service again. The anger in me, thinking those praying, weren’t praying hard enough for my boy. Yet, here I am, about to go in because of your boy.”

“Thank you, Joe. Thank you so much.”

Joe smiled for her and opened the door.

The music increased in volume and sounded so much better than outside. It wasn’t an upbeat song, it was a reflection one. The woman who sang was older and truly expelled the power and emotions behind the music.

Joe inched her forward a few pews and pointed. A woman in the row turned. Her face seemed to light up when she saw Joe, and when Cate saw her smile, she knew it was the woman they called Maw-Maw.

Haley sent several pictures of Jonas and Maw-Maw. In fact, the young woman communicated frequently with Cate. It wasn’t a guilt thing, she just wanted to give her updates.

Had she not, she would have been shocked when she saw her son on that stage.

He didn’t really face the congregation too much, too busy watching the other members, giving directions with a nod.

Jonas not only looked happy, he looked healthy. She thought instantly of the one text and picture she got from Haley. ‘Day twenty-two, flavor twenty-two, peanut butter mint.’

Jonas was enjoying himself, Cate cringed.

A part of her felt like she was picking up her son from rehab, one she prayed would work.

And there was a change in Grant. She hadn’t seen him look this happy or stress free in forever. It had also been years since she saw Grant play anything other than a few Christmas songs at get togethers.

Cate sat back and enjoyed watching her family. She was glad she made the decision to come early. If it all changed when Jonas remembered who he was, she didn’t want to miss her chance of experiencing it.

“What an uplifting day this is,” Pastor Rick stepped center altar, holding the microphone and a hand behind his back. “We learned a lot didn’t we? Thank you for coming today, for worshiping with us and remember … When you let it go, just as fast …” he raised his hidden hand. It wore a baseball glove. And no sooner did he lift it, a ball sailed across the altar from Grant and Pastor Rick caught it. “God takes it.” Pastor Rick said. “I have to tell you. We practiced that, but still … I was afraid I’d miss.” He looked at Grant.

“Me, too,” Grant said.

The congregation laughed.

“God doesn’t miss, though,” Pastor Rick said. “Have a great week, be good to one another, and remember, you are loved. Please rise and sing praises with our band.”

The intro to the song fell on the shoulders of Grant and Jonas.

Jonas counted it off quietly to the drummer, turned to face the congregation and stepped to the microphone, when he did something that was rare for him. He struck a wrong chord.

It was obvious and really off. Jonas had a frozen expression on his face.

Pastor Rick covered. “Guess the band is a little stunned by my athletics.”

Grant mouthed the words to Jonas, “What’s wrong?”

Jonas shook his head and stared at Grant.

Looking at the drummer, Grant counted the song again. This time Jonas played correctly. He missed the first chord of the introduction but jumped in and caught up.

The song was upbeat and uplifting, Jonas sang as if he had to concentrate on every word. The end of the song was music with the four person backup singers, taking the chorus as the musical instruments in the band took it home.

Something was up, Grant didn’t know what it was, but Jonas looked odd on stage.

He stared at Grant, then made his way over toward the keyboard, playing and jamming the last part of the song.

When the last note played, after Jonas’ hand struck downward across the string, he lifted the guitar strap over his head, and handed the guitar to Grant. “Thank you.”

He sounded different. Grant realized why when Jonas spun, raced down half the steps, jumped the rest of the way and called out, “Mom!”

Cate had made her way out of her seat and into the side aisle. The song was over, and she wanted to leave and go back to the hotel. Her back turned, she heard it.

“Mom.”

Not only did she stop, but her heart did, too. She looked up.

“Mom!”

She hurriedly turned around, listening to the emotional call of her name, she didn’t move. How could she, she could barely breathe.

Jonas pushed his way through, calling for her, His eyes finally making contact with Cate a few feet before he drew close.

Jonas stopped, his shoulders bounced up and down. His face red and eyes glossed over with emotions. “Mom.” His voice cracked.

Then in one long stride he reached out to her.

Cate grabbed onto him; she clutched her son close. She was strong, holding it together, until she heard him weep. Grabbing on to her like a lost little boy.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

Throat tightening, Cate choked on any words that could possibly come out. All she could do was hold on to him, cry with relief and joy. Her legs felt too weak to stand. She wasn’t