The Impressionist by Tim Clinton, Max Davis Read Free Book Online Page B

trying to atone for your sins. You can’t do it. It’s already done! He was the propitiation.’ She loved that word, propitiation. ‘But you gotta believe it, that He’s offering it to you, that if you were the only person alive, God would have still sent Jesus to the Cross to pay the price for you. When you hate yourself for being black, it’s like saying God makes junk and my God don’t make junk! Don’t be calling God a liar!’ Jim Ed paused, took a breath. “It’s simple but not easy, you know.”
    “What’s not that easy?” I asked.
    “Accepting God’s gift,” he replied. “I mean really believing it and receiving it. We either think we are too good and don’t need it, or too bad and don’t deserve it. Especially when we see ourselves like we really are. Truth is; we’re all wretches. We all fall short of God’s glory and are in need of redemption.”
    “I’m hearing you,” I said. “But whatever happened to Christina?”
    “I married her almost sixty years ago.”
    “That’s what I figured,” I said, shifting in my seat to get comfortable. “Sixty years, wow, that’s quite an accomplishment.”
    “It sure is, especially in today’s world. We live in a society today that is set against marriage and the enemy is out to destroy it. The two are working hand in hand.”
    “Okay, so how’d you two meet? You can’t stop now.”
    “Well, it’s quite a story. I’ll tell you what. How ’bout we trade stories—you meeting Paige for my meeting Christina?”
    I paused for a moment considering his request. “No thanks,” I finally said. “I’d rather just listen to yours right now if you don’t mind.”
    “Don’t mind at all,” said Jim Ed. At that moment, he turned to his paper and began rubbing furiously at a spot with a rag before he daubed first one color then the other. “Your face changed completely when you were thinking about Paige,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice, again, not even looking up from his fingers.
    “Really?”
    “Yep,” he said. “It softened.” Jim Ed laid down the brush and studied his progress with a satisfied expression, then continued his own story.

10
    “It was in nineteen hundred fifty-four,” Jim Ed said looking up to the sky in another effort to recall the past. “And—” His Blackberry dinged again and he paused to pick it up. “Here, it’s for you,” he said. “Looks like it’s from Paige again.”
    I took the phone in my hand and silently read her text. “What friend? Words mean nothing to me anymore, Adam. I’ve lost trust.” I stared down at the phone and reread it, her words ripping my guts out. I didn’t even respond.
    “You look like you just bit into a rotten apple and found yourself a worm,” said Jim Ed.
    “Oh, I found a worm all right—me,” I said. As I uttered those words, a wave of self-loathing pounded me. “I totally blew it with her this morning. We had an argument and I cut her up pretty bad. It seems cutting people up is one of my gifts.”
    Jim Ed nodded his head indicating he was listening while never stopping the flow of painting.
    “Actually, we cut each other up,” I continued. “She’s pretty gifted too. Said she was sorry she married me…that she wants out.”
    “Do you believe her?”
    “Truthfully, Jim Ed, I don’t know what to believe.” I sighed deeply for about the tenth time that morning. “We’ve been drifting apart for a while now, but have been too busy to deal with it. We just go about our business, ignoring the elephant in the room. Now, suddenly, it’s like all hell is breaking loose and we’re being ripped apart at the seams. The situation with Josh isn’t helping matters either.”
    “That tends to happen when we let things build up over time—don’t deal with issues when they are just small, like pebbles in a stream. You keep piling them up one by one and eventually the flow of water is cut off.”
    “Paige and I used to be best friends, Jim Ed. I mean best