Tides of Truth [02] Higher Hope by Robert Whitlow Page A

Mrs. Callahan.”
    “Just a minute,” Zach responded, staying in his chair. “I don’t think we’re finished yet.”
    I started to disagree, but then something in Zach’s eyes stopped me. He leaned toward Mr. Callahan. I fidgeted.
    “Would it be okay if we prayed before we left?” he asked.
    Mr. Callahan gave Zach a questioning look.
    “What kind of prayer did you have in mind?” he asked. “Has God been showing you all my secret sins?”
    “No, sir. That wouldn’t do me any good and besides, you already know them.”
    Mr. Callahan chuckled.
    “Let’s wait for a minute,” Zach said.
    I had no choice. I bowed my head and closed my eyes. A heaviness that could be felt settled in the room and made me think of a few prayer meetings I’d attended when no one wanted to say “Amen” because it was unclear whether to stop.
    Mr. Callahan spoke. “As my father would say, ‘I feel the weight of God’s glory’ and want to know why.”
    Zach didn’t say anything, but I knew Mr. Callahan was right. I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
    “I think God wants to touch you,” Zach said. “Would it be okay to ask him to do that and see what happens?”
    I opened my eyes and saw Mr. Callahan nod and bow his head.
    Zach looked past the old man at a spot on the other side of the room.
    I followed Zach’s line of sight but saw nothing except the corner cupboard where Mrs. Callahan kept the fine china.
    “Father, touch Mr. Callahan,” Zach said softly.
    The heaviness in the room increased. I wanted to keep my eyes open but felt that whatever God did next, I wasn’t supposed to watch.
    I had a sudden desire to bottle the moment and open it later at Mrs.
    Fairmont’s house.
    “Hallelujah,” a male voice said.
    It was Oscar Callahan.
    “Hallelujah,” the old man repeated stronger.
    I peeked and saw Mr. Callahan’s faced turned upward but his eyes still closed.
    “Hallelujah!” he cried out in a loud voice that sent shivers down my spine.
    Mr. Callahan rose to his feet and lifted his hands in the air. He clapped his hands together so loudly that it made me jump. Zach remained seated. The old man took a few tentative steps, then began to turn around, his hands in the air.
    “Hallelujah!” he repeated several times.
    I wouldn’t call it dancing, but Mr. Callahan began to shuffle his feet.
    He pushed his walker out of the way and marched across the kitchen.
    Zach leaned back in his chair, an amused expression on his face.
    “Yes, sir,” Zach said.
    “Hallelujah!” Mr. Callahan said again.
    The lawyer’s vast vocabulary had been reduced to a single word. Over and over he said it. He marched up to Zach and slammed his hands down on the young lawyer’s shoulders.
    “God has touched me,” Mr. Callahan said. “And I bless you for being obedient.” He turned to me. “And Tammy Lynn, bless you for bringing this man of God to see me today.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Mr. Callahan glanced around the room as if looking for someone to hit or something heavy to pick up.
    “Is this going to last?” he asked Zach.
    “I don’t know,” Zach answered.
    “Hallelujah,” Mr. Callahan said. “You’re just the messenger.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    The side door that connected the kitchen to the garage opened, and Mrs. Callahan entered. A statuesque woman with magnificent silver hair, she’d been raised in suburban Atlanta. The lawyer’s wife had rejected the fiery faith of Mr. Callahan’s father as watered-down religion dispensed by a sleepy church in the center of town.
    “Hello, Mrs. Callahan,” I said, trying to remember my manners in the midst of a heavenly visitation. “This is Zach Mays, an associate at the firm where I’m working this summer in Savannah. We stopped by to pick up a couple of steers. My mother sent a bag of Silver Queen corn. It’s already shucked and in the pot—”
    “Hallelujah!” Mr. Callahan interrupted, staring at his wife, his eyes blazing with zeal. “God almighty has touched me