63

Death Row

Thomas remained out of sight of Brady’s cell as he hesitated at the end of a pod and stole a glance at the visitation request form. Oh, God, he breathed silently, let this be for real.

The prisoner looked stunned when Thomas appeared before his house. He stood quickly. “Thanks for coming.”

“I came as soon as I got word. You can thank Officer Harrington.”

“I will. So, you saw what I wrote.”

“I did, and I must tell you something, Brady. I want you to look directly into my eyes.”

“What? Are you two dating now?” someone shouted, and the cackling and hollering began.

“Ignore them,” Thomas said. “Don’t worry about anybody else. Before you tell me whatever it is you need to tell me, hear me out. This may go without saying, but I need to be crystal clear. I take spiritual matters deadly seriously. I want you to think carefully before you speak and then mean every syllable. I will not be conned; I will not be manipulated. I have been in the saddle here long enough to know when someone is simply trying to use the things of God for their own gain. You understand me?”

“Yes, sir. And I want you to believe me.”

“For right now, Brady, I owe you the benefit of the doubt.”

Brady looked down and nodded.

Thomas feared he had scared the man off. “Now, I’m listening.”

“So is everyone else.”

“They’re too loud to hear you, and even if they do, that’s their problem, not ours, isn’t it?”

“I guess.”

Thomas just stood staring, inches from Brady’s face, only interlaced steel between them. He tried to hide that his heart was sprinting. God, please.

Brady Darby spoke just above a whisper, lips pale, his voice breaking. “Jesus is Lord,” he said. “And I believe God raised Him from the dead.”

“What does that mean?” Thomas said.

“That means I’m right with God and that I’m saved.”

“What does it mean that Jesus is Lord?”

“Just what it sounds like. That He’s the boss. He’s the one in charge.”

“And what does it mean for you that you are right with God and saved?”

Brady said, “I’m a child of God.”

“How do you know?”

To Thomas’s wonderment, this pathetic young man, whose life had appeared worthless just the last time they had seen each other, began quoting Scriptures from memory.

“‘To all who believed and accepted Him,’” Brady said, “‘He gave the right to become children of God. They are reborn—not with a physical birth resulting from human passion or plan, but a birth that comes from God.’”

“What did you do to earn this?”

“Nothing,” Brady said. “‘God saved you by his grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it. For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.’”

Thomas had to grimace to keep his lips from quivering. He poked his fingers through one of the square openings, and Brady pressed his hand against them. “If you’re sincere, Brady, we’re brothers in Christ.”

“You need to do me a favor, Reverend, and stop saying ‘if’ about this. Sounds like you’re doubting me.”

“I apologize.”

“Don’t judge me by how everybody else acts in here. There’s nothing in this for me in this life. I’ll still be locked in here and will still get put to death, and I don’t guess I’d want it any other way. That’s justice.”

“But you’ve taken care of eternity, and that’s no small thing.”

“The way I see it, I didn’t have a whole lot to do with it. I just believe, that’s all.”

“Brady, I need to get going so we don’t abuse this privilege and lose it. But let me just tell you: one of the things I’ve seen here over all these years is men who have not figured out how to redeem their time. The future holds nothing for them, so they either get themselves in all sorts of trouble or they just zone out and sit staring, watching TV, doing nothing. I don’t know how they keep from going crazy. Your earthly future hasn’t changed, but think what you can do with your time now. You can really get to know God.”

“By reading the Bible.”

“Exactly. And memorizing. And who knows? Maybe God will allow you to share this with someone else.”

“These guys? I doubt it.”

“Like I said, you never know. Sure, they’ll doubt you and mock you, but you may be able to reach inmates who would never listen to me.”

“I’ll read that book you gave me.”

“Good, and I have many, many more. Let me know every time you finish one, and I’ll bring you another. And meanwhile, my wife has a gift for you.”

“Your wife?”

“You didn’t think I was married?”

“I never thought about it.”

“I’ll tell you about her sometime. Meanwhile, maybe you will enjoy this.”

But of course it wouldn’t fit through the openings.

“What’re you doing there, Reverend?” came the guard over the intercom.

“Just trying to give him a tape.”

“I’ll have to see it first.”

“Hey!” someone yelled. “Give me a tape!”

“If you like what you hear,” Thomas hollered back, “I’ll bring you one too.”

“That’ll be the day!”

Thomas moved into the observatory and showed the cassette to the supervisor.

“What is this?”

Thomas told him.

“Sorry, Reverend. This could be broken and made into a weapon.”

“I’ll take full responsibility.”

“Yeah, that’ll do a lot of good when he’s lying there bleeding out, or one of my guys is stabbed trying to get him to the shower. I’m going to have to say no.”

Thomas sighed. He couldn’t have been happier about what had happened to Brady, but clearly, in trying to work with him, he was going to face obstacles every step of the way.

Thomas stopped by Brady’s cell on his way out and told him to request a private meeting. “I’ll play this for you over the phone in the isolation room. How are you feeling, by the way?”

“That’s something I want to talk to you about. How am I supposed to feel? It’s like I’m relieved, but I still feel unworthy, like I don’t deserve it. I am what I am, and I can’t be happy because of the people I’ve hurt.”

“You feel unworthy because you are unworthy, Brady. Relieved is the right way to feel. And that may be as good as it gets. I need to warn you though: this voyage is not going to be all clear sailing.”

“What do you mean?”

“You want to get to know God, right? to get to know Jesus by reading the Bible and the other stuff I’ll get to you?”

“Sure. ’Course.”

“As you start to grow and understand and get a picture of what God is really like, you’re going to start seeing yourself in light of Him. If you’re like me, you may have some real trouble with what you see in the mirror.”

Brady snorted. “If I was like you, I’d have an easier time looking in the mirror. I already know I’m scum.”

“I’m just telling you, the closer you get to Jesus, the harder it is sometimes.”

Administrative Wing

Thomas went directly back to Warden LeRoy’s office. “Frank, I’m going to be needing to see this inmate on a regular basis.”

“Yeah, no. That’s going to be hard to pull off without everybody else knowing he’s getting special privileges.”

“No special privileges. I’ll change the rules for my office. Any inmate demonstrating a sincere belief and wishing to be discipled or mentored in his effort to become more spiritually mature shall not be restricted in his requests for personal time with the chaplain. How’s that sound?”

“Like you rehearsed it. But I’d have to say that just might work, within reason.”

Thomas was so stunned that Yanno would even consider this, he hardly knew how to respond. “Well, sure, within reason, Frank. He has to be in his cell for counts, meals, and to be taken to his shower and exercise. And the meetings would naturally have time limits.”

“This would put extra burden on officers who have to transfer him back and forth.”

“C’mon, chief. What else are these guys doing all day? What’s another trip to isolation?”

“Put it in writing for the review board. I’ll run it up the proverbial flagpole.”

Thomas would do better than put it in writing. He would enlist Ravinia’s help in crafting a document that would stand up legally—no holes, no exceptions, no soft underbelly. He left a message for her, then called Grace with the news. In the middle of telling her, Thomas began to sob and couldn’t speak.

“I’m so thrilled,” she said. “So thrilled. I can only imagine how you feel.”

“Actually you can’t,” Thomas managed. “It’s been so long.”

“I’ll let the people at church know.”

“Tell them to keep praying. This has only just begun.”

Thomas carefully studied his library, looking for just the right progression of titles to try to slowly but surely bring Brady along in his fledgling faith. When he thought he had it figured out, he put Grace’s tape in his player and sat weeping as he listened.

I hear the Savior say,

“Your strength indeed is small!

Child of weakness, watch and pray,

Find in Me your all in all.”

When from my dying bed

My ransomed soul shall rise,

“Jesus died my soul to save,”

Shall rend the vaulted skies.

Jesus paid it all,

All to Him I owe;

Sin had left a crimson stain—

He washed it white as snow.

“So you snagged a live one, eh?” his daughter said when she called back at the end of the day. “Good for you.”

“I know you mean that,” he said, smiling.

“Well, a little faith can’t hurt these lost souls. I mean, what else does Darby have to look forward to? He still dies in less than three years, right?”

“Right.”

“He understands that, I hope. He’s not hoping for some break because of this . . . ?”

Thomas assured her he believed Brady Darby was genuine and sincere.

“How long has it been?” she said.

“Sorry?”

“How long since someone really changed under your influence—and you don’t have to remind me that it’s God, not you.”

She had hit him right where he lived, and he had been thinking that very thing all afternoon. It had been a lot of years and a lot of churches ago.

His silence must have unnerved his daughter. “I didn’t mean to bother you, Dad. I was just wondering. Just saying way to go. You know we don’t agree on all this, but if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you mean it. So this has to feel good.”

Death Row

Brady didn’t know if it was because Chaplain Carey had planted the idea in his mind or if the man had simply been right, but what he had predicted came true. The more Brady read and the more he learned, the more he was overwhelmed by the love of God and His perfection, His power, His might.

Brady was still relieved, and nothing made his new faith waver, but he began to feel so low, so worthless, so puny that he could barely stand himself. And then came the memories: not as ghastly as the scenes of the murder, but somehow someone or something was bringing to his mind every last thing he had done wrong his whole life.

Brady could not even begin to count the lies, the people he had swindled, the trouble he had caused, the damage he had done. He started a list, but it went on for pages. The induction material said that prisoners were not allowed to write letters to their victims or their families or try to make amends without approval from the warden’s office.

What could be wrong with apologizing and trying to make things right? He wouldn’t dare try to do that in the case of Katie and her family, because he knew how that would look. But what about how he had treated his aunt and uncle, his mother, his employers, Agatha, his teachers, everyone? The list seemed endless.

He submitted his request to see the chaplain in private again as soon as possible. Brady had so many questions, so many concerns, he was unsure where he should even begin. He sure hoped he didn’t bug this poor guy to death. It was just that there was so much to take in, to understand, to deal with.

His life had changed; Brady could already feel it. But like the chaplain had said, it was not going to be easy. Verses he had already read several times hit him anew. And when he came across John 10:10 again, quoting Jesus Himself, it made Brady wonder.

The thief’s purpose is to steal and kill and destroy. My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life.

How full could Brady’s life be on death row at Adamsville State Penitentiary?