Flowers for Andy

by Kathy Luder

I was eating lunch at Molly’s house at the end of the summer. After grace, her dad, a deputy for the county, announced, “Last night Andy Roberts jumped off the Interstate Bridge into the river. They found his body washed up behind the 7-11.”

“Andy Roberts?” Molly squeaked, her eyes wide in horror.

“That kid never had a lick of sense,” Molly’s mom said. “He wasn’t raised right.”

Molly’s brother, Chris said, “You know him Molly. He goes to the Catholic school.”

Her mom muttered, “That is a shame.”

The phone rang and Chris jumped up to get it. On his way he bumped his cup and some Kool-Aid sloshed over onto Molly’s sandwich and plate. A circle of red began to spread on her napkin. She made no move to wipe it up.

Her dad said, “It’ll be a lot of paperwork. I’m glad I didn’t get the call. All the same, I’ll probably have to work late tonight, to make up for the shortage it’ll cause.” Taking a bite of his oversized sandwich, he said, “What time is that DVD due back?”

I watched him as he chewed his sandwich. He seemed so cold. I didn’t really know Andy, but I was shocked he was dead. Molly’s dad didn’t seem to care at all; meanwhile Molly looked like she was about to pass out, or at least throw up. She hadn’t eaten a bite. Returning from the phone, Chris looked at Molly and said, “That was George. He called to tell us about Andy. He said he saw you with him yesterday.” Molly’s dad’s head jerked up. He looked at Molly for a second and then back at his plate.

Molly’s eyes were closed. Her face turned blotchy. She whispered, “Andy Roberts?” like the name was a puzzle.

“You know him. He wears glasses. He lives over on Maple Street. Remember that big Capture the Flag game we had at the end of last summer? He and I put a frog down your shirt. I thought you were going to kill us. Didn’t think you’d forget him.”

Molly stared at her red-stained napkin. Her dad looked at her funny, out of the corner of his eyes. He said, “Mrs. MacAllister says she saw Andy with a girl under the bridge last night. They were wading in the water.”

Molly stood up suddenly. She wobbled a little, but caught herself on the edge of the table. She said, “I think I’m catching a cold.” Then she ran up the stairs to her room.

Without looking at me, Molly’s dad said. “Kathy, if you know something about this and are not sharing it, now would be a good time to let us in on it.”

Molly’s mom said, “Is there something going on with Molly and Andy?”

I wanted to say, “Duh?” But I didn’t really know. From Molly’s reaction I knew something was up, but she’d never said anything about him to me. I was suspicious, but I felt like I was being asked to betray Molly. So I just shrugged my shoulders.

“I’m kinda full,” I said, and ran up to Molly’s bedroom. I knocked on her door. “Molly, it’s me. Let me in.”

“Go away,” she moaned. “Just go away.” I backed down the stairs, and slipped out the front door. Something was seriously wrong, but I didn’t know what. It felt like I was in the Twilight Zone.

I called Molly from home about an hour later. Her mom said she was still sleeping. She asked me again if I knew anything about Molly and Andy. I told her I didn’t. I called again that night. Her brother said she was in the bathroom. He hung on the line like he wanted to say something else, but didn’t. Molly didn’t call back.

“Molly, what is going on?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Kath. Just leave me alone.”

“I’m not leaving. If you don’t want to talk, fine. But I’m staying here with you. No matter what, I am still your friend.”

“Oh, fine! I’ll tell you. Everyone is probably already talking about it anyway. I was seeing Andy, okay? Give me a break! He was nice. You didn’t know him. You’d laugh at him, but I liked him and there is nothing wrong with that!”

“Why would I laugh at him?”

“Because he was a nerd. He was a Lord of the Rings and Star Wars freak and read comic books. He spent all his time playing video games. He wasn’t good looking or athletic or popular or anything. But so what? He was nice. He was smart. He was funny and he liked me.”

“Okay.” I sat down next to her and dug at a hole in the concrete with a stick. Molly got quiet.

When she starting talking again, it was slow and deliberate. “It was just a summer fling,” she said. “Two nights ago we were wading in the water. Andy wanted to talk about God and the future. I got nervous. I didn’t want the kids at our school finding out about us. I said some mean things. I told him it was all a joke. I never really liked him. Then I left. He must have jumped off the bridge sometime that night.”

She began to weep. I moved closer and put my arms around her and felt myself joining in on the cry. Molly cried for a friend she’d lost and from guilt. I cried for a boy I didn’t know, but was sure I would have liked, for a future lost. I cried for Molly because her heart was broken and would probably always be scarred. And I cried for the unnecessary suffering we bring upon ourselves through our selfishness. If Molly felt guilty, I felt angry.

We finally ran out of tears. We were numbly tossing pebbles into the water when she said, “He wanted to talk about God, but I was embarrassed. What if he went to Hell?” I stopped being angry. I was suddenly cold and a little afraid. How was I supposed to answer that?

“He went to the Catholic school,” I said weakly. “He must have been baptized.”

“Yeah, and they went to Mass all the time. But did he know about Jesus?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry I was a jerk, but mostly I’m sorry he’s gone. I hate not knowing whether he’s in heaven or not.”

“Me too,” I said.

Molly’s dad pulled up in his squad car. Molly started crying again. Her dad came over and sat down beside her. He didn’t say a word. He just put his arms around her. She told him everything, and I could tell that he loved her and wanted to be a good father. He just didn’t know what to do. Maybe it is not that easy to be a cop and a dad at the same time.

On the way home, we asked him about Andy’s fate. Molly hinted at her own failure and guilt, at the uncertainty of suicide and Andy’s lacking confession. But Molly’s dad didn’t have any answers. All he could say was “It ‘ll be okay.”

So we did what we usually did. The next day, after Sunday school, we asked Mrs. Zaftig. She told us that it was in God’s hands and that Baptism is no small thing. Andy’s salvation wasn’t our duty. It was God’s. He would take care of it. Where we had been less than perfect, He would forgive us, even when we failed to witness like we should. He loves us and died for us.

To our great embarrassment Mrs. Zaftig called the pastor into the room. She didn’t let on too much; she just asked him about Roman Catholics who die without making a clear confession. He said we trust in the mercy of God and that Baptism is a valid promise. We are not saved by believing the right thing or saying the right thing, but by God’s grace.

As soon as he said it, I knew it was true. Molly did too. We still wish we’d heard Andy say, “Jesus loves me, died for me, and will bring me to heaven.” We’re still sad. We’re stuck with the way it is. We can’t change it and we haven’t recovered yet. Maybe we never will. But it is comforting to know that we are saved by grace and that God loves to forgive. We both are a little more conscious than we used to be about the opportunities we have and how quickly life can end. Thanks be to God that the world doesn’t depend on us and neither does heaven. It will be okay, because God loves us and sent His Son for us.

Kathy Luder, whose first words were "On a dark and stormy night," lives in the imaginations of good fairies and hobbits everywhere, and sometimes, in cyber-space. You can reach her at KathyLuder@hotmail.com.

Sola Fide

We are not saved by doing the right thing or believing the right thing. We are saved by the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. That is God's grace. He sent His Son to live a perfect life for us and to die and rise in our place. And not just for us, but also for all men who have ever lived—even for those who don't believe. All men have been reconciled to the Father in the Son. But some are still damned. Some condemn themselves because on their own, by their own fault, they reject the Name of the only-begotten. Those who believe in Jesus Christ are those who have been called by the Holy Spirit through Holy Baptism and have heard the Gospel. God has given them faith. Faith is directed toward Christ and his work. That is how God’s grace is given to us by His Word. We are saved by Christ through grace given in faith.

-The editors