The Count of Monte CristoChapter 58 M Noirtier de Villefort
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Saturday morning, Vicki wandered around the motocross track aimlessly looking for something that looked like a starting line. John had told her that they would be there for two hours that morning. Parents would watch their kids from various places along the track, but the best spot to watch would be near the starting line. She would be able to identify the kids before they put on their helmets.
Giving up on finding the starting line, she decided to join the first group she came across. She finally she found a small group of people standing beside the track. There were four substantial rises along the track. Not having any better place to go, she joined them thinking that this might be a good place to watch the action.
When the first pair of motorcycle rode past, she had no idea what she was seeing. The sounds of motorcycles screaming past hurt her ears. From where she stood watching it seemed to her that the riders were in the air half of the time. She wondered what they were trying to accomplish.
She watched the riders stream past hoping to identify her kids. The riders looked like spacemen bundled up in all of their safety gear. There wasn't an inch of skin visible. The leather clothes, gloves, boots, knee pads, elbow pads, and helmet hid any feature that might allow identification.
When one of the riders went down, she feared that he or she was dead. The others watching barely reacted to the spill. She was shocked when the kid got up and climbed back on the bike. He, she assumed the rider was a he, peeled out like he was being chased by demons. It was the first of several spills that she witnessed.
After an hour, she gave up trying to identify her kids amongst the riders. It was hopeless trying to identify them when they were encased in gear that covered every inch of their body. She decided to leave.
Leaving was easier said than done. She had no idea where she had parked her car. She wandered around looking for any kind of familiar landmark. It was only by accident that she noticed John's truck. Her kids were gathered around it loading the motorcycles onto a trailer. It was hard to believe that those were her kids wearing black leather outfits that made them look like some sort of modern day gladiators. They looked so strong and confident.
Turning away, Vicki spotted her car at the other end of the parking lot. She raced over to it and left before the kids had a chance to notice her.
At the truck, Lisa said, "I'm telling you that I saw her here."
"That's impossible," David said.
Lisa said, "She was standing with that group of people at the double jump."
The track here was a lot larger than the one at John's farm. The one at the farm was a little thing that allowed them a little of the thrill of motocross, but wasn't really challenging. This was larger and with a variety of riding challenges. The double jump was one of the features Lisa really enjoyed and she tried to push the envelope on it.
David said, "Your eyes should be on the track; not on the people watching."
"I wiped out there. I saw her when I was getting back on the bike," Lisa said.
Rose asked, "Are you sure it was her?"
"Yes," Lisa said.
"What was she doing here?" Rose asked.
John asked, "Who are you talking about?"
"Mother," Lisa said. "She was here."
"I wonder what she was doing here," John said.
Rose said, "She was spying on us."
"Why would she be spying on you?" John asked.
Rose answered, "Maybe she's looking for a way to kill us."
"Don't be ridiculous, Rose," John said.
Lisa asked, "How did she know we would be here?"
"That's a good question," Rose said looking over at her father.
John said, "I may have mentioned it when I stopped by the house to do some work in the office yesterday."
"Why would you mention it?" Rose asked suspiciously.
"I probably told her about it when I was letting her know our schedule."
Lisa asked, "Why would you tell her our schedule?"
"I was letting her know when we would be stopping by the house today," John answered.
"Why would you tell her when we were going to be there?" Rose asked.
John said, "So she wouldn't be there."
"I want to talk to her," Rose said.
"No you don't," John said flatly.
"Yes I do," Rose said.
"You don't want to talk to her. You want to yell at her," John said.
"It's the same thing," Rose said.
She crossed her arms and looked at him as if challenging him to argue. They had already had that discussion once.
"No it isn't," John said. Before she had a chance to counter, he asked, "Are you going to finish loading the motorcycles or are we going to be here all day?"
"We'll load the motorcycles," Lisa said.
John watched them while thinking that it was going to be a long day.
Sunday morning, John led the three kids down the aisle of the church to their normal pew. No matter what was going on, John insisted that everyone attend church every Sunday. He felt that it was important that the kids had a good sense of God.
It wasn't until they were about to sit down that David noticed his mother sitting in a pew two rows behind them. He stared at her for a full five seconds wondering why she was there. He never remembered her being particularly religious. He felt that she went to church to make an appearance of being a loving sweet mother. There was no need for that act now.
He commented, "Mother is here."
Looking around wildly, Rose asked, "Where?"
"Two rows behind us," David answered.
"I'm going kill her," Rose said.
John said, "Rose!"
"What?" Rose asked.
John said, "We are in the house of the Lord. It is holy place. We do not fight on sacred ground."
"All right," Rose said through tight lips. "Can't I ask her to leave?"
"No," John answered.
Throughout the service, Rose kept glancing back to glare at her mother. Even David was getting tired of it. He put a hand on the back of her neck to keep from from being able to turn around. Initially she struggled, but finally gave up.
The service was not remarkable. With Rose fidgeting, David wrestling with her, Lisa sulking, and John watching over all of the kids, none of them could have told anyone what the sermon had been about. It seemed like hours passed before they could get up and leave.
Reverend Billings had taken his usual position at the door of the church to exchange words with the parishioners as they left. He was a man of small stature in his late fifties. Worry lines around his eyes and mouth made him look older. The easy smile transformed what was basically a sad face into something that made him look like a very compassionate and caring man.
The entire congregation agreed that Reverend Billings was not the usual man of the cloth. He had a different take on things that often left people confused. One Easter he delivered a sermon about the other resurrection described in the Bible, that of Lazarus being raised from the dead by Jesus. It was definitely not the sermon anyone expected on the day celebrating the resurrection of Christ.
John enjoyed his sermons, just because they were a little different. Others who expected a more traditional service usually left the church. There was a solid core of parishioners who swore that Reverend Billings was a very holy man and would argue quite heatedly with anyone suggesting that he be replaced.
At the door, the reverend shook hands with John. He said, "I notice there is a little tension in your family."
"Has anyone ever told you that you are a master of understatement?" John said.
Reverend Billings said, "If you need someone to talk with, remember that I'm always available."
"Thank you, Reverend," John said. "I'll keep that in mind."
Turning to Rose, Reverend Billings said, "Rose, I think you would do well to remember the commandment to honor your mother and father."
Rose replied, "She has to be honorable before she deserves to be honored."
"I understand how you feel. When I was a child there were many times when I plotted the destruction of my parents after they had done something that I felt was unfair. It is the kind of thing that children do. You are no longer a child," Reverend Billings said.
"So you're saying that I'm acting childish," Rose said.
He replied, "When I grew up I discovered that while my parents weren't perfect, they were doing the best they could for me. There is a kind of honor in that and that is what the commandment is telling us. We should honor them because they try to do the best they can for us."
Rose's eyes narrowed. "Are you criticizing me?"
"No. I'm merely pointing out that what you are feeling is a universal experience we all go through. Even I, a man of the cloth, have experienced it. I am only trying to place what you are feeling in the context of what God has said about that experience," Reverend Billings said.
"So you are saying that I'm childish because I won't forgive her for abandoning me because she was too wrapped up in what she was doing to be a mother and God doesn't approve of me," Rose said.
Reverend Billings smiled thinking that Rose had just uttered one hell of a sentence. He said, "I never said parents are perfect. They are human and susceptible to all of the same temptations that lie before you."
"You're defending her just because she's an adult and I'm not. You don't even know what she did," Rose said turning to leave.
"I know exactly what you think she did," Reverend Billings said.
"What?"
"You think she abandoned you because she was too wrapped up in what she was doing," Reverend Billings answered.
"I just told you that," Rose said.
"And I listened," Reverend Billing said, "May I say one more thing."
"Sure," Rose said turning to look at him.
"Never underestimate the power of temptation to seduce you into doing something evil. In the beginning, its touch is soft, gentle, and sweet. It seems to be the answer to all of your problems, but with time it becomes your master and a horrible master it is," Reverend Billings said.
"What has that got to do with what we were talking about?" Rose asked.
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