Some Leopards Can Change Their Spots

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes a shooting!

The sound of laughter, chatter from the other tables, the clinking of plates and utensils, and soft piano music filled the room as Sam, Lena, Tony, Lucy, Jeff, and Tristin ate, talked, and cracked stupid jokes. Sam and Lena had just gotten engaged, and in lieu of a lavish engagement party with dozens of guests, the two opted for an intimate evening with close friends. They invited Sam’s old college roommate Tony and his wife Lucy, along with Sam’s coworkers Jeff and Tristin. They made reservations at The View, a new skyscraper restaurant in Chicago that showcased magnificent views of the Chicago skyline, its lights twinkling against the surface of Lake Michigan.

“One night, a turtle was walking on the sidewalk as he went home from work, when suddenly, three snails step out of the shadows of the alley and mug him,” Sam joked. “When the police asked him what happened, he slowly looked around and said in a dazed sort of way, ‘I don’t know! It all happened so fast!’”

“That is so bad,” Lucy remarked with a snort, trying her best not to laugh. Tony, Jeff and Lena laughed while Tristin chuckled, shaking her head.

“You always did have the worst jokes,” Tony said.

“Admit it, though,” Sam said. “You love my stupid jokes.”

“I think tolerated is the word you’re looking for, my friend,” Tony said and the whole group laughed.

“I love a good love story,” Tristin said, sipping her glass of wine. “So… Tell us, Lena. Where and how did you two meet?”

“Well, I met Sam in college at UChicago, along with Tony. We had a lot of classes together, but I had more classes with Sam than I did with Tony. We first met in Astronomy class.”

“So you were like the Golden Trio,” Tristin said with a smile. “Cute.”

“Minus the wands, spells, and magic school,” Lena replied. “So anyway, there we were in the front row waiting for class to start. I introduced myself to him and he introduced himself to me.”

“When did you start dating?” Jeff asked.

“Just last year,” Sam answered.

“What?” Jeff said in surprise. “What do you mean just last year?”

Tony gave the happy couple a near imperceptible nod and a knowing look.

“Go on,” Lena said, nudging Sam in the side. “Go ahead. Tell them about your idiotic rule.”

“What rule?” Lucy asked, curious, one eyebrow raised.

“I had this rule,” Sam said. “I told her, ‘If we’re going to be friends, there’s only one rule: Never fall in love. I never fall in love with my friends. And my friends don’t fall in love with me. Bad things happen if we do.’”

“Wow,” Jeff said with a low whistle.

“I think that’s actually a smart move,” Lucy interjected. “You don’t want to get hurt or burned. And if you do fall in love and things don’t work out, sometimes it’s hard to go back to being friends again. Things get awkward.”

“Exactly,” Sam said. “See? Lucy gets it. It is a smart rule. Until it isn’t. I broke my own rule.”

“And I broke his rule,” Lena admitted. “We went on a road trip last year and stopped at a hotel. The front desk made a mistake and said that our room had two beds. Turns out there was only one.”

“I offered to sleep on the floor, Lena insisted we share the bed,” Sam continued. “Nothing happened. We just talked—about our feelings, about what could have been if we had started dating back in college—and what will be. Our future, etcetera. I asked her if this is what married life would be like—us going on road trips together and staying at crappy hotels with no hot shower.”

“I said I hoped so,” Lena said with a smile.

“You two are unbelievably adorable,” Lucy said.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Tristin said with a laugh.

The friends chatted well into the evening, and after coffee and dessert, Sam and Lena paid the bill. They exited the restaurant, rode the elevator down, and was greeted by the crisp Chicago fall air as they emerged to cross the street. But that wasn’t the only thing that greeted them that night. Seemingly out of nowhere, loud pops were heard. POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! People screamed and dived for cover, running helter-skelter as two rival Chicago gangs emptied their magazines into each other. Unfortunately, innocent bystanders became victims as well, including the three happy couples. Blood was everywhere and Sam’s vision was fading. With the last bit of strength he had left, Sam made an effort to reach out and take Lena’s sticky had in his.

Five weeks later, Sam heard a voice from the darkness and he emerged from his unconsciousness. It was a soft, gentle voice and it was reciting something. Or was it reading something?

“And taking the child by the hand, he saith unto her, Talitha cumi; which is, being interpreted, Daughter, I say unto thee, Arise,” Pastor Michael Hall read as he sat in the chair beside Sam’s hospital bed.

Sam slowly opened his eyes and looked around. He panicked when he found himself in a hospital room. Sam hated hospitals. He’d spent his childhood days and years in these sterile prisons. He panicked all the more when his brain registered who was sitting beside him. And then the panic melted into bitter rage.

“You!” Sam rasped. “The Hell are you doing here?”

“I heard what happened, Sam,” Michael said, looking down at his lap. “I’m so terribly sorry.”

“What happened?” Sam asked, despite his burning hatred of the man beside him.

“You were in a coma,” Michael answered. “There was a shootout between two rival gangs five weeks ago. You lost a lot of blood, Sam. I had to give you mine. You were almost a goner.”

“Give me a knife and I’ll cut myself,” Sam said through gritted teeth. “I don’t need your blood, you Judas.”

“I thought you might react that way,” Michael said with a frown and a heavy sigh. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for the pain that I cost you and Jodi. You had a very beautiful friendship and I destroyed that. I regret it to this day.”

“What’s an apology gonna do?” Sam asked. “The damage is already done. I can’t forgive it. I won’t forgive it!”

“I know that, I know,” Michael said with a nod. “Just… I hope, someday, whenever that may be, you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.”

“You…want me…to forgive you?” Sam said, his whole body shaking.

“That’s what I hope to receive,” Michael whispered. “But I don’t demand it.”

“You…want me...to…forgive you?” Sam repeated. “Then get the Hell out of my sight!”

“If that’s what you want,” Michael said with a sigh, before turning for the door.

Despite Sam’s initial reaction, however, Michael didn’t give up on him. He visited him almost every day except for Sunday. He brought him books and magazines and tried to talk to him. And even though Sam wasn’t a member of his flock, Michael cared for him as though he were one of his own. He even brought him food in case Sam was already sick and tired of hospital food.

“Why are you doing this exactly?” Sam asked one day as Michael took him out to the hospital garden for fresh air.

“Because I feel like it's my duty,” Michael said. “A chance to do good after all the damage I’ve caused. Sometimes I wish I could take a match, light it, and set fire to everything I’ve done in the past. And then I want to take a hose and hose it down to see what’s left standing and if it’s still salvageable.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?” Sam said, raising an eyebrow.

“With all my heart,” Michael promised.

“I’m surprised to find out you even have one at all,” Sam said with a chuckle, making Michael laugh.

“Would I have fallen in love if I didn’t have one?” Michael asked.

“I always thought it was pure lust between you and Jodi,” Sam said.

“Maybe there was, in the beginning,” Michael confessed. “But love was stronger. But it was a dark, twisted, manipulative, jealous sort of love. Not the love that the Apostle Paul wrote about in 1 Corinthians 12.”

“Thirteen,” Sam corrected him.

“What?” Michael said.

“Thirteen,” Sam said. “It’s 1 Corinthians 13. You said 12.”

“Right, right,” Michael said. “Sorry, it’s been a long week. I’m susceptible to brain farts when I’m tired.”

Sam had to laugh at that odd expression.

“By the way,” he asked. “What happened to you? Weren’t you in a gang? What changed? And don’t tell me it’s prison. Because ex-cons rarely change after they get out. I’ve seen it before, countless times. A leopard cannot change its spots, remember?”

“Some leopards can and do,” Michael retorted. “But not by their own doing. It has to be Jesus Christ. When I was in prison, I was stabbed by another inmate. I almost died. And while the doctors were working on my body here on earth, I was in Hell, being boiled alive. I wanted out.”

“Too bad,” Sam joked. “You should’ve stayed in there. Sorry, sorry. Please, continue.”

“When I woke up from my coma, I tried to turn my life around,” Michael explained. “I sought the help of the prison chaplain, gave my life over to Jesus, entered into a seminary program while I finished my sentence, became a model prisoner, got out of the gang, and then I continued my seminary studies after I was released. Then I started a church with the help of my mentors.”

“Don’t you fear for your life?” Sam asked, curious. “I mean, don’t gangs have lifelong pacts? Once you’re in, you’re in for life? Aren’t you afraid your former buddies are out to get you?”

“Every day, my life is in danger,” Michael responded. “And so is my little family. And as a human, it’s hard not to feel that fear. But I leave it all up to God’s hands. If He takes me, then He takes me. Not my will but His.”

“Huh,” Sam thought out loud. “You really have changed.”

“It’s a working progress,” Michael said. “I try to every day. Sometimes a swear word or two slip out every now and then. Sometimes it’s the urge to smoke or drink.”

“Oh, wretched man that I am,” Sam quoted.

“Exactly,” Michael said with a laugh.

“So… What happened to my friends?” Sam asked. “I know my fiancée—my Lena survived. What about the others?”

“Your friend Tony didn’t make it,” Michael said, laying a comforting hand on top of Sam’s. “His wife made it but suffered a heart attack after she learned that he’d died.”

“Tristin and Jeff?” Sam asked, swallowing the lump in his throat. “What happened to them?”

“Jeff’s alive,” Michael said. “Tristin didn’t make it.”

“Goddammit,” Sam swore. “They were talking of having kids!”

And then the dam burst, and rivers of tears spilled down Sam’s cheeks. Like a loving tender shepherd, Michael wrapped Sam in his arms and told him to release it all. They cried together on the green garden bench, and when Sam had tired himself out, Michael helped him back into his wheelchair and wheeled him back to his room for him to rest.

A few short weeks later, Sam was ready to be released from the hospital.

“How much do we owe?” Lena asked.

“You owe nothing,” was the response. It had been paid for in full by an anonymous donor. The same donor that paid for Jeff’s hospital bill, and Lena’s as well. Lena wondered who it was, but Sam didn’t have to. He knew just who it was. Weeks later, that same man would pay for Sam’s physical therapy. That made the stone in Sam’s heart crack. He was on his way to healing and on his way to forgiving Michael Hall. Michael Hall couldn’t change the past. But he was trying to change the present—for the better. He wanted to be a better man than he used to be. He even tried to reconnect with Jodi—for his sake and for Sam’s—but to no avail. She didn’t want to talk to either of them.