72

Adamsville

D-day was approaching too rapidly. Thomas had come to love Brady Wayne Darby as a son and was already grieving the coming loss. The transformation in the man was unlike anything Thomas had ever seen. And the resultant revival in the most unlikely corner on earth had spread to other pods and cellblocks and showed no signs of abating. In fact, Thomas was busier than ever.

He found it harder and harder to leave Grace every morning. Her nights were becoming more difficult, and the doctor had urged him to admit her to a hospital or at the very least to start looking into hospice care at home.

“But hospice sounds like the beginning of the end, Doctor,” Thomas said.

“Reverend Carey, your wife has been adamant about no radiation, chemo, or heroic measures. Her headaches, weakness, blurred vision, and balance issues are symptoms of a spread of cancer cells to the brain, so I’m afraid it’s time to be realistic.”

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, but he seemed distracted, not his usual self. He clearly didn’t want to talk about family issues.

“This Darby has turned into some kind of a guy, hasn’t he?” Dirk said.

Thomas heard Summer singing Sunday school songs to Grace in the other room.

“Dirk, he’s the most transformed man I’ve ever seen. Some still say it’s all for attention, but he’s for real if anyone ever has been.”

“He must really believe, though, right, Dad? I mean, he can’t just change himself like that.”

“I’ve never seen anyone else do it. And I’ve never been able to change myself. Have you?”

Dirk looked away and shook his head.

“Only God can change someone from the inside out,” Thomas said.

“I’d better check on Summer.”

“She’s fine,” Thomas said, but Dirk rushed into the bedroom.

“Let’s let Grandma rest awhile, honey,” he was saying as Thomas followed him in.

Grace did look exhausted, and Thomas detected pain in her eyes.

“I need to take care of her,” Summer said.

“You already have,” Grace managed. “I feel much better. Ready for my nap.”

“Nap? Naps are for afternoons. It’s almost bedtime!”

“Ready for bed, then.”

“Grandma, are you going to die?”

Dirk looked stricken and reached for Summer.

Thomas spoke quickly. “Grandma’s got lots of time left to see you grow up and—”

Grace held up a hand. “Guys, this child needs the truth, and she’s going to hear it from me. If you’re not comfortable with it, you don’t have to stay. Dirk, do I have your permission?”

Summer was wide-eyed.

Dirk said, “I trust you, Mom. Just remember, I’m going to have to tell Rav whatever you say here.”

“Ravinia would tell her the same things I will, I daresay.” Grace turned to her granddaughter. “Sweetheart, yes, Grandma’s going to die and go to see Jesus. Now, don’t cry. I know you’re going to miss me, and I’m going to miss you too. But I’m ready. You know why?”

“I don’t want you to go, but ’course I know why. When are you going to die?”

“I don’t know. When it’s my time. The doctor thinks it could be another whole year. I hope so, because that gives me more time with you. But I’m okay either way because God knows best. He’ll decide.”

“I’m going to be sad.”

“Sure you will, just like I was when my grandparents and my parents died. But they’re all in heaven waiting for me, which is where I will be, waiting for you.”

“I hope I never get lookameany or whatever that is.”

Grace chuckled despite a grimace. “I hope you don’t either. It’s no fun.”

“Don’t die tonight, okay?”

“I’ll try not to.”

“Okay, bye.”

Adamsville State Penitentiary

The next time Thomas wandered to the Row to listen, he was sobered to hear one dramatic line delivered by Brady from the Gospel of Matthew, when Jesus was speaking to His disciples: “We’re going up to Jerusalem, where the Son of Man will be betrayed to the leading priests and the teachers of religious law. They will sentence Him to die. Then they will hand Him over to the Romans to be mocked, flogged with a whip, and crucified. But on the third day He will be raised from the dead.”

To Thomas Carey, that passage alone signaled the end was near, not only for the story, but for his dear friend as well.

“It’s going to be hard, seeing this done to you,” Thomas whispered.

“It’s not going to be ‘done to me,’ Reverend. This is my choice.”

“The beauty of it is that it was Jesus’ choice too.”

“In case you’re wondering, I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

“That makes two of us,” Thomas said.

“But there’s no turning back,” Brady said.

“You know you could be given tranquilizers first.”

Brady shook his head. “That would defeat the whole purpose. I want to experience it and let the viewer see what it really was. I didn’t expect this to be easy.”

Thomas shook his head.

“Will you be with me, Reverend?”

“I don’t want to watch, but if that’s what you want, that’s what I’ll do.”

“I’d like for you to come with me from my house to the chamber.”

“Done.”

As soon as Thomas got back to his office, Gladys said, “Caregiver called and says you need to get home.”

“Oh no. What’d Nellie say?”

“Grace is fine, Thomas. Fact is, she’s a little feisty. Nellie says Grace is insisting she call and order the pay-per-view for tomorrow.”

“That can’t be. That’s the last thing Grace would choose to see.”

“I’m just telling you what was told me. You want me to call Nellie back, or—?”

“Tell her I’m on my way. No way that’s going to happen.”

As Thomas drove out the front gate, he carefully picked his way through a thousand protesters, who by now recognized him from the newspapers and TV. They shouted and banged on his car and pleaded with him to stop the barbarism.

He couldn’t find a radio station that wasn’t airing opinions on both sides of the issue. All Thomas could hope was that everything would work as Brady had envisioned from the beginning and that millions would see what he wanted them to see—what Jesus endured for their sins.

At home, the matronly Nellie, who had agreed to stay until dawn, threw her hands up. “Talk some sense into her, will ya? I mean, I’ll be gone, but if I was here, I wouldn’t let her near that TV.”

Thomas asked Nellie to fix Grace a light supper, then went in to talk with his wife. He intended to let her know he was not going to allow this. But she had an impish look, and he had to smile.

“What in the world?” he said. “You’re not serious about this.”

“And you’re not going to deny me a last wish, are you?”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“I’m not being morbid. I’m just saying that I’m asking for only this one thing, and I promise not to cross you on anything else as long as I live.”

“Gracie, you turn your head when I squash a bug. You can’t look when I’m emptying a mousetrap. When everyone else is craning their necks at an accident, you cover your eyes. Now you’re telling me you want to see a man die?”

“The last thing in the world I want is to see anyone die, Thomas.”

“I know, so—”

“It’s not what I want. It’s what he wants. Brady could have just taken the lethal injection, and justice would have been served. But God put it in his heart to show us something, to teach us something. Well, I think I need to see that too. When he was quoted about all the pretty pictures of the crucifixion, I knew exactly what he was talking about. If this will give me a truer picture of what it was really all about, I owe it to myself to see it.”

Where was the timid little thing Thomas married?

“Now, Thomas, the news says the phone lines are jammed with procrastinators who are just now trying to sign up for this thing. So it may take you a while. I’m a grown woman, and I’ve decided it’s what I want. If you won’t do it for me, bring me the phone.”

“I’ll do it,” he muttered.

Thomas skulked out into the kitchen, where Nellie was cooking. He dug out his credit card and gave her a sheepish look as he grabbed the phone.

“Wimp,” she said.