Riven - Jerry B. Jenkins [74]
“Oh, Brady!” Nabertowitz said. “You’ve let everyone down, but primarily yourself. We’ll make do, but you know as well as I do that the show this weekend will be nothing like last. With just a little effort, you could have made this work. You could have switched to a work-release program, stayed in drama, made something of yourself. Now you’ve thrown it all away.”
“No probation? No second chance? Can’t I sign some sort of a contract, use a tutor, get help?”
“Too late,” Dr. Hose said. “How can I ask any of these teachers to bend the rules for you when you ignored every piece of advice up to now?”
Brady searched his mind for a smart comeback, but what could he say? He shrugged.
“I informed your mother.”
“She doesn’t care.”
“I got that impression. She did say she had hoped you’d be the first in the family to graduate high school.”
“Her big dream, eh? Well, if you think I’m staying here without being in the play . . . My little brother will be first to graduate.”
26
Adamsville State Penitentiary
Thomas never wanted to get used to the ugly coldness of the ASP supermax, but already the prison clichés had become part of his daily routine. His practice became to pray in the car as soon as the great, sterile, impersonal compound loomed on the horizon. He was able to put his mind in neutral as he approached the guardhouse at the edge of the property.
This morning the hulking edifice nearly blended in with a dark, roiling sky. The news said thunderheads would roll through most of the state by noon. Thomas prayed for his day, for his colleagues, for the inmates, and mostly that he would somehow be used.
It seemed to Thomas that some good must come of the years he had spent in devotion to God and His Word. The praying, the studying, the memorizing, the preaching, the teaching, the witnessing, the counseling—up till now it had all seemed to come to naught. He could count on the fingers of one hand the people who had actually been converted under his ministry and whose lives showed marked change.
Was he simply no good at this? Was sincerity not enough? Thomas had made a decision, a commitment. He had turned his back on all the world had to offer. He didn’t necessarily believe he would have been any good in secular pursuits either, but he had staked his claim with Christ. He believed Jesus had paid the ultimate sacrifice for him and for his sin, and just before he met Grace, he had pledged the rest of his life in service to God.
He was happy enough, he guessed. Grace was the greatest blessing he could have ever hoped for: a loving mate—if sometimes too perfect—who shared his values and encouraged his every step. They had never had much, had never wanted much. Beautiful Ravinia was currently a heartbreak, but Thomas believed she would come around. It was the years and years of seemingly futile ministry that really weighed on him.
He was finally in a position to perhaps do something about that. He was starting to get comfortable in his new role, learning the ropes as the warden and the former chaplain had predicted he would. Thomas was a man of order and discipline and schedules. He had designed a strategy. And while his ministry had the unusual wrinkle of requiring that his target audience seek him out, rather than the other way around, he could live with that.
His days were mapped out, his office organized. He was ready to try to serve in this difficult mission field if God would just open a few doors.
Thomas had to chuckle as he made his way to the administrative offices. One of the jokes at ASP was that not even God could open its doors. Well, he’d see about that.
Forest View High School
Something began growing in Brady Darby’s chest as he stood on rubbery legs to leave the dean’s office. It suddenly became important for him to lock in his don’t-care attitude. In truth he felt small, like a kid caught red-handed. Was it fear? shock? What would he do now?
He nodded at Hose and thrust