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“Honey, no one blames you for what happened.”

Her silence lasted only a few seconds longer before the dam burst. “But if I hadn’t been careless in the canoe, you wouldn’t have had to…” Her voice filled with self-loathing.

Mack interrupted with a hand on her arm. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, honey. It’s not your fault.”

Kate sobbed as her father’s words penetrated her war-ravaged heart. “But I’ve always thought it was my fault. And I thought that you and Mom blamed me, and I didn’t mean…”

“None of us meant for this to happen, Kate. It just happened, and we’ll learn to live through it. But we’ll learn together. Okay?”

Kate had no idea how to respond. Overwhelmed and sobbing, she broke free from her father’s hand and rushed out of the room. Nan, with tears trailing down her cheeks, gave Mack a helpless but encouraging look and quickly left in pursuit of her daughter.

The next time Mack awoke, Kate was lying asleep next to him on the bed, snuggled up and safe. Evidently Nan had been able to help Kate work through some of her pain. When Nan noticed that his eyes had opened, she quietly approached so as not to wake their daughter and kissed him. “I believe you,” she whispered, and he nodded and smiled, surprised by how important that was to hear. It was probably the drugs that were making him so emotional, he thought.

Mack improved rapidly over the next few weeks. Barely a month after he was discharged from the hospital, he and Nan called Joseph’s newly appointed deputy sheriff, Tommy Dalton, to talk to him about the possibility of a hike back into the area beyond the shack. Since everything at the shack had reverted back to its original desolation, Mack had begun to wonder if Missy’s body might still be in the cave. It could be tricky explaining to law enforcement how he knew where his daughter’s body was hidden, but Mack was confident that one friend would give him the benefit of the doubt regardless of what happened.

Tommy was indeed gracious. Even after hearing the story of Mack’s weekend, which he chalked up to the dreams and nightmares of a still-grieving father, he agreed to go back up to the shack. He wanted to see Mack anyway. Personal items had been salvaged from the wreckage of Willie’s Jeep, and returning them was as good an excuse as any to spend some time together. So on a clear, crisp Saturday morning in early November, Willie drove Mack and Nan to Joseph in his new-used SUV where they met Tommy and together the four headed into the Reserve.

Tommy was surprised to watch Mack walk past the shack and up to a tree near a trailhead. Just as he had explained to them on the drive up, Mack found and pointed to a red arc at the base of the tree. Still walking with a slight limp, he led them on a two-hour hike into the wilderness. Nan said not a word, but her face clearly revealed the intensity of emotions that she battled with each step. Along the way they continued to find the same red arc etched into trees and onto rock faces. By the time they arrived at a wide expanse of boulders, Tommy was becoming convinced, perhaps not in the veracity of Mack’s wild story, but that they were surely following a carefully marked trail-one that could possibly have been left by Missy’s killer. Without hesitation Mack turned directly into the maze of rocks and mountain walls.

They probably would never have found the exact spot if it hadn’t been for Papa. Sitting at the top of a pile of stones in front of the cave was the rock with the red marking turned outward. To realize what Papa had done made Mack almost laugh out loud.

But they did find it, and when Tommy was fully convinced at what they were opening up, he made them stop. Mack understood why it was important and, though a little grudgingly, agreed that they should reseal the cave to protect it. They would return to Joseph where Tommy could notify forensic specialists and the proper law enforcement agencies. On the trip down, Tommy again listened to Mack’s story, this time with a new openness. He also took the opportunity to coach his friend on the best ways to handle the grilling he would be soon getting. Even though Mack’s alibi was flawless, there would still be serious questions.

The following day experts descended like buzzards, recovering Missy’s remains and bagging the sheet along with whatever else they could find. It took only weeks after that to glean enough evidence to track down and arrest the Little Lady-killer. Learning from the clues the man had left himself to find Missy’s cave, authorities were able to locate and recover the bodies of the other little girls he had murdered.

AFTER WORDS

Well, there you have it-at least as it was told to me. I am sure there will be some who wonder whether everything really happened as Mack recalls it, or if the accident and morphine made him just a little bit loopy. As for Mack, he continues to live his normal productive life and remains adamant that every word of the story is true. All the changes in his life, he tells me, are enough evidence for him. The Great Sadness is gone and he experiences most days with a profound sense of joy.

So the question I am faced with as I pen these words is how to end a tale like this? Perhaps I can do that best by telling you a little about how it has affected me. As I stated in the foreword, Mack’s story changed me. I don’t think that there is one aspect of my life, especially my relationships, that hasn’t been touched deeply and altered in ways that truly matter. Do I think that it’s true? I want all of it to be true. Perhaps if some of it is not actually true in one sense, it is still true nonetheless-if you know what I mean. I guess you and Sarayu will have to figure that one out.

And Mack? Well he’s a human being that continues through a process of change, like the rest of us. Only he welcomes it while I tend to resist it. I have noticed that he loves larger than most, is quick to forgive, and even quicker to ask for forgiveness. The transformations in him have caused quite a ripple through his community of relationships-and not all of them easy. But I have to tell you that I’ve never been around another adult who lives life with such simplicity and joy. Somehow he has become a child again. Or maybe more accurately, he’s become the child he never was allowed to be; abiding in simple trust and wonder. He embraces even the darker shades of life as part of some incredibly rich and profound tapestry; crafted masterfully by invisible hands of love.

As I write this, Mack is testifying at the Ladykiller trial. He had hoped to visit with the accused, but has not yet been granted permission. But he’s determined to see him, even if it happens long after the verdict is rendered.

If you ever get a chance to hang out with Mack, you will soon learn that he’s hoping for a new revolution, one of love and kindness-a revolution that revolves around Jesus and what he did for us all and what he continues to do in anyone who has a hunger for reconciliation and a place to call home. This is not a revolution that will overthrow anything, or if it does, it will do so in ways we could never contrive in advance. Instead it will be the quiet daily powers of dying and serving and loving and laughing, of simple tenderness and unseen kindness, because if anything matters, then everything matters. And one day, when all is revealed, every one of us will bow our knee and confess in the power of Sarayu that Jesus is the Lord of all Creation, to the glory of Papa.

Oh, one last note. I’m convinced that Mack and Nan still go up there sometimes, to the shack, you know, just to be alone. It wouldn’t surprise me if he walks out to that old dock, takes off his shoes and socks, and, you know, puts his feet on the water just to see if… well, you know…

– Willie

Earth’s crammed with heaven,