Riven - Jerry B. Jenkins [207]
But Grace insisted she wanted to die at home, cared for by her family and friends from church. “That’s all I ask.”
More women from the church were added to the rotation, and every few nights, one stayed through to allow Thomas to get some sleep. On the one hand, he felt he was running on empty. On the other, with everything going on at ASP, he was able to keep his mind occupied and off his two impending losses for much of the day.
Several men were reading their Bibles daily, and Thomas was also teaching them individually a couple of times a week. A few had prayed to receive Christ, and each day he was visiting more men for the first time.
For hours every day, most of the inmates within earshot left their TVs off and listened to Brady reciting. They asked questions and he answered almost entirely in the words of Jesus. Meanwhile, Thomas made the rounds, making no attempt to whisper unless a man requested that, so he was able to minister to several at once while ostensibly visiting one.
And the men seemed to so look forward to their Friday meeting—though, of course, each remained in his own cell—that incident reports on the Row virtually disappeared. Every Friday Thomas spoke, Gladys sang, Brady recited, and someone prayed. Everybody behaved. A couple of times, even inmates other than Brady led in prayer. Other pods asked for similar sessions, and while Brady was not allowed to leave the Row, Thomas took Gladys or sometimes a CD of his wife’s singing and recited Scripture as part of the program.
Thomas often brought a visitor just to observe. The warden was a frequent attender, Ravinia got a taste of it, and even Dirk stood off to the side for one session.
Ravinia seemed dumbstruck but told her father later, “I remember that ‘first love of Christ’ the New Testament refers to. I can see it in some of those guys.”
Thomas was so tempted to urge her to return to her first love. She was a smart, successful woman in her early forties now, with a seven-year-old daughter and an estranged husband. Something had to give.
At long last the courts ruled that the crucifixion would not be allowed to be broadcast live on public airwaves. All that served was to change the International Cable Network’s strategy. They went from cashing in through sponsors to cashing in through pay-per-view. Within days of the announcement, the event became the most subscribed-to feature in the history of television by four times.
The sign-up broke records in every country. Even on continents where it might air live at three or four in the morning, there seemed no flagging of advance sales.
“Sometimes,” Thomas told Grace, “when I listen to Brady, I can almost forget it’s him. It’s as if I’m hearing Jesus. I’ve studied the Gospels since childhood, but he really brings it to life for me.”
One of the hulking old men on death row, a tall, broad guy with a black and gray beard who called himself Skeet, asked Thomas if he could talk about “a whole different subject” at the end of their one-on-one Bible study one day.
“Briefly,” Thomas said, peeking at his watch. “A lot more guys to see.”
“I was just wondering. The pen is getting all this money for this crucifixion deal from ICN, right?”
Thomas nodded. “That’s what I hear.”
“We’ve all become pretty fond of this kid,” Skeet said.
“Brady’s no kid anymore. He’s thirty-three.”
“I know. Just like Jesus was.”
“Right.”
“Well, we’re all gonna see him die when the DVD comes out. But we’re his friends now, and I think he wants us to see it when it happens. Some guys might not want to, but I do. It’s like I want to be standing with him, know what I mean? It shouldn’t take much for them to pipe that broadcast in here, to our TVs. Can you ask about that?”
Thomas went to Yanno, Yanno to Andreason, Andreason to the governor, the governor to ICN, and almost like that, it was done.
With Ravinia working late, Dirk brought Summer to see her grandmother one evening. Thomas had hoped to talk with Dirk,