Cupside Down

Copyright © 2017 Terry Cliett.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Unless otherwise noted, all Scripture quotations are taken from the Holman Christian Standard Bible®, Copyright © 1999, 2000, 2002, 2003, 2009 by Holman Bible Publishers. Used by permission. Holman Christian Standard Bible®, Holman CSB®, and HCSB® are federally registered trademarks of Holman Bible Publishers.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

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Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

1 (866) 928-1240

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

ISBN: 978-1-5127-7236-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5127-7237-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5127-7235-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017900783

WestBow Press rev. date: 01/26/2017

Contents

Chapter 1 This Mess

Chapter 2 Jonathan Learns More About Breaches

Chapter 3 Jimmy and the Prison Graduation

Chapter 4 Jonathan Meets Angie

Chapter 5 CIRCLE-F; Temptation

Chapter 6 Starting to Build

Chapter 7 The Distraction

Chapter 8 I-beam

Chapter 9 Hope for Ashleigh

Chapter 10 New Dance Partner

Chapter 11 New Life Plans

Chapter 12 What Next?

Chapter 13 Rain and DVD

Chapter 14 Unfolding Future

Chapter 15 Date Surprises

Chapter 16 What Happened

Chapter 17 Picking up the Pieces

Chapter 18 Sum it Up

Acknowledgement and Thank You

I suppose no author ever wrote a book without some level of help. Our loving God, no doubt, inspired and directed the writing of this one. I am so thankful for His guidance, and hope I faithfully wrote what He desired to have printed.

So many people have helped me with this book that I will never be able to name or thank them all. I am so thankful to my wife, Sandy, and my son, Elijah, for proofreading and editing for me. I appreciate your time.

A special thank you to my daughter, Emilie, for the cover art. You did an excellent job!

Angie, Glenn, and David, you all helped more than you know. I thank you with my whole heart.

Foreword

The Jonathan Timms in this story is a fictitious character. However, some of the young men I have mentored in the last few years will easily recognize events in the story as true moments in their lives. Although most of this story happened only in the mind of the author, some of the events and people are real.

The events in Chapter 3: Jimmy and the Prison Graduation actually happened in 2015 at a graduation of The Integrity Project® in a prison in Georgia. Only the name of the speaker changed. Terry Cliett delivered the graduation speech that day. They used the Castles of Character© curriculum, which can be ordered from http://www.incorva.com.

Rev. David Self truly does have a coffee house ministry. His book, Everything I Know about Evangelism I Learned at a Coffee House, is available for download.

Many friends and family members gave me suggestions for names or personality traits of characters. Only the characters of Angie and Emilie are true to the real-life people in name and character.

Chapter 1

This Mess

The metal bed frame and springs squeaked with Jonathan’s every move. He hung his feet off the side and traced the cracks in the floor with the toe of his shoe. The uncomfortable bed and cold jail cell had given him a sleepless night. Light from the cell across the hall made long shadows on the dirty walls. And the smells? Ugh. Through the bars, he could see the clerk’s desk at the end of the hall. He stepped closer to get a better look, more out of boredom than curiosity. He quickly looked away when he thought he saw a man with red hair staring back at him. After a few seconds he peeked through the bars again. The man was gone. Had he imagined it? Jonathan hated jail.

Maybe someone would be there soon to bail him out of this mess. This mess. How many messes had there been? He’d lost count long ago. Now, after his tantrum and arrest, he knew he had to be missing something. Spending the weekend in jail had given him time to sober up and think about his life. How did trouble keep finding him when he tried so hard to hide from it? He had always thought that laws were for the weak, and that being a man meant you had a right to do whatever you wanted—as long as you didn’t get caught. Now, he started to wonder if it was normal for a twenty-three-year-old man to have an arrest record so long he couldn’t remember it all.

He closed his eyes, tried to relax, and thought of Katie. She always helped him deal with the hard times. She would encourage him. He could talk to her when he—Katie! He jerked and opened his eyes wide as he remembered the evening before. The full weight of his actions began to dawn on him. He couldn’t believe he had said those things to her and treated her that way. He thought about the way she had looked at him. That picture became a movie that played in his mind again.

Jonathan, Katie and the rest of their normal party group had been drinking and partying downtown. As usual, the more Jonathan drank, the louder he became. His behavior started to annoy some of the other people in the bar and Katie became concerned. She tried to talk to Jonathan, as did some of his other friends. He kept drinking and trying to show his independence.

I’m grown, and I’ll do what I want! he screamed when they tried to calm him down.

Finally, Katie tried to reason with him privately. Please, Jonathan, she pleaded. I love you, and I know you love me. Please calm down and don’t drink any more tonight. Do it for me. Everyone close enough could see the love in her eyes and could hear the concern in her voice.

Jonathan’s friends and the other partiers near them all grew quiet for a moment waiting to see Jonathan’s response. He didn’t respond the way any of them expected.

For you? Jonathan broke the silence when he raised his voice in anger. Then he shook a beer bottle in her face and said, loud enough for everyone to hear, You’re crazy if you think you’ll ever mean more to me than a good drink.

The look of brokenness on Katie’s face froze Jonathan. All of the color left her face, and all of the life seemed to leave her. Her eyes began to water and her voice wavered so much she couldn’t speak for a moment. Then she answered him softly but firmly.

I fully understand now. I didn’t want to believe it, but finally I do. I know who I really am – or rather, who I am not – to you. Good bye! She turned and walked out of Jonathan’s life.

The rest of Jonathan’s evening blurred in his memory as he continued to drink and pretend that he had everything under control. Then, he woke up in this cell.

How could I be so stupid? he asked himself. Then he looked at the floor again, his eyes wet with a fresh wave of tears. Can I ever fix my life? Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have it all together as well as he wanted to believe. Words would never be able to describe how broken he felt inside. He’d really messed up this time. He wished someone could just open his head and pour in some answers. For the first time in his life, he felt ready to listen.

A metal door slammed somewhere down the hall and the sharp noise made him jump. Was someone coming to tell him his bail had arrived? No. Not until Monday morning, at least. Screaming and cursing from down the hall told him someone else had lost his freedom tonight, too. Jonathan wanted to go home, but he dreaded the questions his mother would have. He wished there’d been someone else he could call to arrange bail for him. He knew he’d have to sit through another long lecture, but he really didn’t need any help feeling guilty.

An officer paused outside his door and looked at him. He recognized the officer from a previous stay. The officer gazed directly into Jonathan’s eyes and said, You didn’t ask, but I’m going to give you some advice. You need to quit trying to get out of the consequences of your lifestyle and get out of the lifestyle itself. You’re not on a good path. In just a few minutes, we’ll be transporting someone just one year older than you to the state prison intake center. The judge just sentenced him to five years. Last year, he was in the same cell you’re in with the same charges you have. I know you’re grown and you’re making your own decisions. I respect that, but…are we going to be transporting you next? He left without waiting for an answer.

Jonathan leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes again. He wanted to sleep, but he didn’t want anything to crawl on him when he did. The bed wasn’t comfortable. His mind raced. So many bad choices seemed to be coming back to haunt him. Somehow he dozed several times, but he kept waking up sweating and shaking.

Bright light coming through the window announced the arrival of Monday morning. As the sun rose, Jonathan found his hopes rising, too. Maybe this would be the last time his mom would have to bail him out. If she could get things together quickly, his release would come soon, and he could get to work before he lost too much time. At least he still had his job—for now. For the first time he began to seriously consider the need for change. Maybe he needed to make some real, permanent changes. But what would he change? How would he change? Just trying not to get in trouble didn’t work. He’d been trying that.

A few hours later, he stared out the car window while his mom drove in silence. Silence wasn’t really what he expected and he didn’t know how to handle it. He was used to her ranting, and he had gotten better at ignoring that. Of course, she would say she was giving him a talking to, but he had heard it all before. His mother’s lectures just made him angry. She always told him the things he did wrong but never gave him real ways to fix them. This time, though, she seemed to be almost as discouraged and hopeless as he was.

Her voice quivered as she began to talk. Katie came by to see me this weekend. She told me everything that happened. She said that you really scared her and she’s going home to her parents. She left her phone and all the gifts you gave her on my table. She doesn’t want you to ever call her again. She said you had threatened her for the last time, and it’s over forever. She paused for a moment and said, She means it, Jonathan. It’s over.

She didn’t say anything for several minutes. Then she looked at him with red, puffy eyes. Katie had looked at him with the same expression. How much worse can it get before they…before you’re…? She choked back a sob as her voice cracked.

Jonathan didn’t know what to say. He looked at her for a long time. Then he dropped his eyes before his tears started, too. They finished the ride without another word.

Jonathan had his phone number transferred to Katie’s old phone and discontinued her old number. His phone had quit working after he dropped it in the pitcher of beer, then threw it against the brick wall on the night he was arrested. He grieved the loss of his relationship with Katie. The memory of Katie’s words and the look on her face kept replaying in Jonathan’s mind. He couldn’t imagine anything the prosecutor or judge could do to him that would make him hurt more. The look of pain in his mother’s eyes also seemed to twist the knife of guilt he already felt.

Jonathan spent much of his time thinking about changes he needed to make. Days passed and he still had no real answers. He decided not to wait until his court date. His next step would be to talk directly to the prosecutor and discuss his options.

Whatever happens, he decided, I’m going to ask her if she knows anyone I can talk to that can help me turn my life around. He picked up his cell phone and dialed the prosecutor’s office.

Two days later he found himself sitting alone waiting in prosecutor Margie Brown’s office. Past experience had taught him that he could trust her to be fair, so he chose not to have an attorney this time. He and Ms. Brown had known each other for a long time. He had been in this office so many times to answer for mistakes he had made. While he waited, he noticed she had some new pictures on the wall and a new stapler. The uncomfortable chair he sat in needed replacing, too.

When she finally came in to see him, he expected a lecture like he had gotten before, or even that she’d tell him she had finally given up on him. Maybe he’d have to do some longer jail time or even some prison time for this latest outburst. He was surprised and confused by her response instead. After a brief greeting, she sat down and faced him.

Well, Jonathan, tell me about this one, she said in a tone that he had heard many times before.

I seriously want this one to be my last one ever, he responded quickly. Whatever I have to do to pay for this one, I’m willing to do. I won’t fight or argue about it. But I want to know how to change my life and never do this again. I’m tired of jail, and I’m more tired of hurting people I love.

For a good, long time she looked into his eyes across her desk. Her face told the story of the questions she had running through her head. He knew she wondered if he really wanted to change. Finally, she handed him a small piece of paper with a name and phone number on it, and said, We will discuss what’s next after you talk to him.

Who is this, a counselor or something? He twisted the corner of his mouth and frowned.

Or something, she smiled as she answered. Jimmy Betts can help you get your house in order. When he heard the statement about getting your house in order and saw the smile from the prosecutor, Jonathan’s train of thought scrambled. The doctor had told his uncle to get his house in order because he only had six months to live. Two of his friends had heard those words just before their report dates. One was reporting for military service, and the other for prison. He didn’t ask about his court date or any other details about his charges or sentence. All of the normal questions he might have asked seemed to disappear.

Ms. Brown must have seen that he was confused and speechless. She offered to call and make an appointment for him. The idea of calling a stranger made him uncomfortable, especially when he didn’t even know the real reason for the meeting. He agreed to let her set up an appointment for the following morning. He listened while she called.

Hello, Jimmy, she said after she had dialed the number. This is Margie. I have a young man in my office that really needs to talk to someone. He’s been in a little trouble, and he says he is ready to make some changes. I have several options, but I’d like to send him to you. If you will help him get his house in order, that will take a load off my mind. Will you be available tomorrow?

She looked at Jonathan and silently mouthed, Nine o’clock in the morning? Jonathan nodded.

He said he would be there, she continued speaking into the receiver. Thank you Jimmy. He really needs your kind of help. I honestly wanted to send him to you, not to a program or class. Thank you so much!"

She wrote the time on a piece of paper that also had Jimmy’s name, his business name and address, and phone number on it. She told him to be sure he called if he decided not to go and needed to change the time for any reason.

He rose from his chair, shook her hand and thanked her, then headed for the elevator. Although he had been in trouble many times before, he had never seen this response from Ms. Brown. He had also never had such feelings of guilt or remorse over the things he had done. Her responses had surprised him almost as much as his mother’s. Instead of the normal lecture from his mother, he had gotten a few questions accompanied by a look of pain that he hoped he never saw again. He had really blown it this time, but something in Ms. Brown’s voice gave him hope.

While on the elevator leaving her office building, Jonathan replayed the conversation in his mind. What did she mean by get your house in order? She usually put him on probation or gave him some list of things to complete by some deadline. This time she did neither. He finally decided she must be recommending an attorney or substance abuse counselor. He didn’t think he needed either one, but he decided to keep the appointment anyway. As he walked outside his phone buzzed. When he checked it he saw a text from his mom.

How’d it go? she had asked, and before he typed a response he realized he had no idea what his options were or what his sentence would be, and never even thought to ask.

Weird! I’ll know more and can tell you about it after a meeting tomorrow. Seems good, though, he replied. He put his phone back into his pocket as he got into his truck. Maybe he’d have real answers tomorrow.

*   *   *

Jonathan slept well that night but awoke early the next morning. A full hour before his alarm clock went off he stood at his closet trying to decide which shirt to wear. After a shower and a quick breakfast, he drove to the address on the business card for his meeting. Jonathan turned into the parking lot of the small office complex a few minutes early. He noticed a police car in front of the office where he was going. It was parked next to a cleaning service van. Goosebumps ran up his arms and the back of his neck. He shivered. He felt sick. He fought the urge to turn around and