The Journey - InkSpot.Com

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The Journey

Dan Sullivan heard an announcement about halfway through his plane trip, while sorting papers in his briefcase.

"We are experiencing turbulence. All passengers please buckle your seatbelts."

The pilot's brisk voice was punctuated by a sharp dip, causing people to pitch forward. Dan held onto the seat as his paperwork flew off his lap. A woman behind him started wailing. Voices filled the air, some trying to restore order, others frantic.

His chest grew tighter with each wobble from side to side, his stomach churning with each plummet and subsequent rise. He was suddenly acutely aware of the fragility of such an enormous and seemingly powerful aircraft against the unpredictable forces of nature.

Would they crash? What would become of his wife and daughter? He wouldn't get to celebrate her eleventh birthday. The case he was flying to New York to work on would remain unfinished. He couldn't say goodbye to anyone. Beads of sweat rolled down the back of his neck. He gripped the sticky plastic armrests.

Just when it seemed they were on a downward death spiral, the plane gave a final jerk, righting itself.

"We have overcome the turbulence. You may now release your seatbelts."

A collective sigh of relief rose from the passengers. Some were still crying from shock. Dan slumped in his seat, tension draining like coiled springs, leaving him damp and nauseous, with a pressure in his lungs, his ears ringing and his heart pounding in his throat. Never again would he fly on a plane, he swore to himself.

***

Six weeks dragged by while he worked his case in New York. It was sordid, ugly: child trafficking and the horrors associated with it. Dan gathered evidence, conducted interviews, tracked down perpetrators and testified in court, pulling all-nighters and surviving on caffeine.

Finally, he stood outside the courthouse with the district attorney. They shook hands one last time.

"Fifteen men convicted. Well done, Sullivan. We couldn't have managed without you."

The DA's words of praise fell on deaf ears; all Dan could think of was wanting to go home to his family. But home was a thousand miles away… and he wasn't taking a plane. He'd already made arrangements to rent a car.

"Are you sure you're up to driving all the way?" His wife Reema peered into the Zoom screen. "This case was hard on you. Every time we spoke you looked more exhausted."

Dan couldn't argue with that: he could see his sunken, shadowy eyes and the new lines in his forehead as well as she. But he gave her his best smile.

"I'll be fine, really. I'm looking forward to seeing the Great Smoky Mountains and having a peaceful trip home."

"We can't wait to hug you, Daddy!" Monica chirped, leaning in to wave.

"Same here, honey. I'll be sure to bring you a big, cuddly black bear from the Smokies."

With that promise, Dan set off down the interstate. It would take him maybe three days at the most. His entire route was planned ahead and programmed into the GPS. All he had to do was enjoy the journey… right?

He quickly found he couldn't drive fast enough to escape the heaviness in his heart, or the nagging sense of impending doom or having forgotten something incredibly important.

The past ten years of his life played in his mind like tired reruns: his first case, back when Reema worked alongside him; their decision to take in a foster child and eventually adopt her; his many years thereafter working mostly solo, supporting his family and serving the community.

Being a detective was dirty, agonizing and frustrating. The single mother they helped pro bono on their first case had warned them how it would be. She recognized their innocence, their good intentions. Ten years later, Dan had seen too much of the worst behaviors and the deepest suffering of humankind. He was sick of it.

But the very revulsion he felt was upsetting… how could something he'd dreamed of doing, and did so well, be something he wanted to run away from? Didn't the good he was doing mean anything? Was he really making an impact? Would anyone notice if he quit, melting into unassuming oblivion?

By the time he reached the North Carolina welcome center in the heart of Appalachia on the second evening, all he could do was rest his head in his arms on the steering wheel and pray for the strength to keep going.

He was too worn-out to drive to the nearest town for a hotel; instead he leaned back and fell asleep in the driver seat of his cramped rental car.

A hard knock at the window made him jump into action, scrambling for his gun in the glovebox. The security guard beamed a flashlight at him. Dan rubbed his eyes. It was five in the morning.

"Just thought I'd let you know you left your headlights on all night," the elderly man chuckled when Dan rolled down the window. "I'll be leaving at six!"

"Thanks for not telling me sooner," he growled.

He knew by how slowly the window moved that the battery was drained. Sure enough, pushing the Start button only brought forth the rapid clickety-clack of the starter. Dan choked back his frustration; the rental company included a jump-starter kit with the vehicle.

He unlatched the hood, stepped around, and began reading the instructions and connecting the jumper cables. A utility truck with flashing lights pulled up alongside, labeled "State Road Ranger."

"Need some help?" A burly bearded guy leaned out the window.

"Um… possibly. I don't know if this thing will work. Never used it before."

"I'll stand by, ok?"

"Thanks."

The battery pack started the car right up. Dan listened absently as the Road Ranger gave him the usual advice about driving for at least thirty minutes on the highway to get it recharged.

"So, where ya headed?"

"Home to my wife and daughter in Tennessee."

"Sounds wonderful! How far away have you been? How long?"

"Ugh… New York. Six weeks. I'm a private investigator… this was the biggest case of my career."

"Wow, man! That's really something to be proud of."

Dan slouched against the truck, eying his weary face in the sideview mirror.

"Yeah… I guess. I'm considering retirement. Ten years I've been doing this. Hard to see what the point is. I'm only one man against a world of crime."

"Burnout, eh?" The guy met his eyes in the mirror with a knowing look and reached out to shake his hand. "Hey, name's Chris. Nice to meet you…"

"Dan."

"You look like you need a recharge the way your car battery does. You know, sometimes we leave our own lights on all night to light the way for others, and it takes a toll."

"Makes sense."

"You have any kind of faith?"

"Yeah, I take the family to church every week… I want them to have a safe community."

"That's really good. Personally speaking?"

"Well, I…" Dan stared down at the tires. "Need more faith, probably."

Chris reached in between the seats and pulled out a pocket-sized leatherbound Bible. He held it out the window.

"I think you need this more than I do. I have a few extra at home."

"Oh… thank you." Dan took it, holding it close.

"I know what it feels like to burn out," Chris continued. "I've been patrolling this stretch of highway for the same ten years you've been a detective. Midnight car crashes, drunk drivers, road rage, landslides, hazmat, innocent lives gone too soon… you name it, I've seen it all. I do what I can, it's my calling. But I need to take time to restore my soul. You know what I like to do?"

"Can't imagine."

"Thirty minutes down the road, there's a scenic overlook. I pull off there and watch the sunrise over the mountains. It does a body good to be alone in God's creation for a while. When the world needs me again, I come back stronger for having rested. Jesus did it, too."

"Sounds like a nice idea…" Dan flashed a weak smile. "Maybe I'll do that right now."

"Go ahead. Remember: you're almost home, and God loves you. I'll be praying for you."

Dan waved goodbye as Chris drove away in search of stranded motorists. Getting in his car, he headed down the exit ramp onto the highway.

He turned on the radio. He had driven thus far in silence, or the occasional traffic report; no wonder he was so caught up in morose thoughts. A Christian music station came in. Dan was swept into meditative praise songs, laying everything at the feet of the Savior.

At the scenic overlook, dawn was bluing the sky's eastern edge. He parked and got out for a walk to the viewing area, bringing Chris's Bible with him. The grounds were maintained naturally, with a creek rushing in tiny waterfalls over a rocky gully and pink rhododendrons clinging to the hillsides. Songbirds trilled and fluted in such glorious variety, he considered finding a "Shazam for birds" app to install on his phone.

Dan stopped at the edge to sit on a granite bench. He didn't know quite what to do, as it wasn't light enough to see much yet, so he spread the Bible open and aimed his phone light at it. He found the story of Elijah on the mountain. He read, fascinated by the fiery, climactic showdown between pagans and prophet.

Then came the meltdown: Elijah running for his life away from the evil he'd partially uprooted, collapsing in exhaustion and despair under a tree, begging for an end to his career and indeed his life.

The parallels to Dan's own experience were clear. He kept reading breathlessly as the angel ministered to Elijah, fed him and told him to get some rest, that he wasn't the last man left standing, as he feared.

A beam of sunlight glimmered invitingly across the pages. Dan looked up as a golden glow broke through pearly peach clouds in a crystalline blue sky, lighting up layers upon layers of verdant, rolling, textured hills spread out before him, fading into distant bluish wreaths of mist.

He drew in a deep breath of cool, clean mountain air, lightly scented with wildflowers. As he exhaled, the last pressure of fear, gloom and weariness rolled off his shoulders like fresh water flowing down the creek. Peacefulness settled in, with an awe-inspiring awareness of the presence of God. He lowered his head and whispered an awkward prayer,

"Lord, I need to get to know You better. I know what I'm doing is worth it, and I know I need a break. I'm not the only detective in the world. Thank you for putting Chris in my path…"

He gazed out across the endless waves of unblemished wilderness, fully grounded in the present, letting go of past pain and future anxiety. Time slipped by quietly, until his phone buzzed with a text from Reema.

"Good morning💖 Where are you?"

"Having an epiphany in the Smokies," he wrote back. "Thirty minutes west of the NC welcome center. I'll be on the road immediately. Sending pics."

He stood up and turned around to take a smiling selfie against the mountain view. Walking back to his car, he paused to get close-ups of the flowering rhododendrons. Another message from his wife:

"Don't forget to find a stuffed black bear for Monica before you leave the area. She keeps asking about it."

Dan laughed deep and true for the first time in a long while.

"Will do, hon. Tell her I'm coming with bears and bear hugs 🧸🤗 Oh… pray for me, please."

"Honey, I always do 🙏💖"

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