Riven - Jerry B. Jenkins [183]
“Keep what quiet, sir? I didn’t read it, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“Oh, very good, then. Say, this is a copy. I’ll need the original.”
“Oh yeah. We copy all that stuff, you know. The original must still be in the machine. I’ll find it and send it to your office, okay?”
“You copy these?”
“Yep. Just protocol.”
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