The Glorious Prodigal (12 page)

“What about the judge? Who’ll be conducting the trial?” Diane Winslow asked.

All three of the Winslows saw the expression that crossed the face of the old man, and they all knew that something was wrong.

“What is it, Mr. Frasier?” Leah whispered.

“Well, the judge will be Marcus Broz.” He hesitated for a second and then shook his head. “His nickname is the ‘Killer Judge.’ ” He passed his hand over his face, and the hand trembled visibly as he whispered, “He’s the worst man we could have had.”

****

Leah lowered herself into the chair carefully. She was uncomfortable and knew that all of the strain of this ordeal had affected her pregnancy. All the ease was gone now, and she had not slept a full night since Stuart had been arrested. She sat in the small room with the worn furniture and listened until she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. The door
slowly opened and a guard entered. He stepped aside to admit Stuart, who was wearing leg-irons and handcuffs.

“Just knock on the door when you’re through,” the guard said.

Leah watched him as he waited for a moment before leaving them alone. He was a small, burly man with a callous face. This was just a day’s work to him, and Leah wondered what a man could be like who so constantly observed the fear of men that he had become immune to it.

“How are you?” she asked as Stuart lowered himself into a chair.

He ignored the question, put his hands on the desk, and stared at the steel handcuffs. His face was thinner and he had lost weight. There was a twitch in his lips that had not been there before, and finally he said, “All right. How’s Raimey?”

“He’s . . . all right.”

“What does he say about having a father on trial for murder?”

“He doesn’t talk about it.”

Stuart’s head came up. “He
must
talk about it. What does he say?”

Leah had not wanted to talk about Raimey, but she saw that it was necessary. “He’s afraid, Stuart. He’s heard talk from other children, and he’s so
quick
to catch on to what’s happening. I’ve tried to keep the truth from him, but it’s been on the front page of the newspaper for days. Even your picture. I found him looking at it the other night.”

“Does he say anything?” Stuart’s voice was forced, and there was agony in his eyes as he waited on her answer.

“He won’t say anything. I think he’s put it out of his mind. It’s like he thinks if he just ignores it, it’ll go away.”

Stuart suddenly laughed hoarsely. “That sounds like something I’d do.”

Leah could not think of anything to say except, “I’m sorry. I wish I could do something.”

The silence grew between them, and finally he said, “I read
a book once about trapping beavers out west. It said that sometimes a beaver will get his foot caught in a trap, and then he’ll gnaw it off himself just to get away. I wish I could do that . . . whatever it cost just to get away.”

Leah sat in silence, and the awkward gulf between them deepened with each passing second. It was as if she had been in a coma ever since her world had collapsed. She had tried to pray but could not. Everything seemed dark and bleak. It was not that she doubted God, but she did not know how to handle such a problem. She knew all of the Scriptures and read them over and over, trying to go on with some ray of hope. She had dutifully sat and listened to the pastor and to her mother-in-law and to Annie whenever they tried to comfort her, but it was as if she were locked inside her own prison and could not get out.

Stuart studied her face, and finally he said, “Can we ever get over this, Leah? I mean if I don’t have to go to prison, can we start over?”

It was a question Leah had asked herself many times, and now she merely shook her head mutely.

“Is it all over?” Stuart said. “Have I ruined it all?”

When she still did not answer, Stuart slumped. “It’s all gone, then? We can’t start over.”

Still something inside Leah urged her to reach out to offer comfort and love and assurance, but it was no use. The years of loneliness and betrayal had left deep wounds in her soul. She merely shook her head and whispered, “I don’t think so.” She felt bound by a coldness in her heart that tightened its grip. And struggle as she might, she could no longer summon love from a broken heart. And so the two of them sat there until finally Stuart rose and knocked on the door. He disappeared, escorted by the guard, and Leah sat there quietly unable to move, unable to think, unable to pray.

****

“Come on! You can ride better than that, Raimey!” Merle
had strapped a saddle on an ancient sorrel mare and lifted Raimey up into the saddle. Usually the young boy enjoyed riding, but there was no happiness in him today. He held the reins obediently and went around but had not a word to say.

Finally, after half an hour, Merle said, “I reckon that’s about enough.” He pulled the boy down, unsaddled the mare, and then removed the bridle.

When he returned from putting the mare into the pasture, he saw Raimey standing there. The forlorn look on the boy’s face wrenched the black man’s heart.

“Mr. Merle, what’s gonna happen to my dad?”

“Why, he’s gonna be all right, Raimey.” Merle put his huge hand on the boy’s head and brushed his black hair back. “You just gotta trust the good Lord.”

Merle wanted to say more to try to comfort the boy, but he could think of nothing. He took Raimey back to the house, then turned and walked slowly to his own house. When he entered the kitchen, he found Annie peeling apples.

“That’s good,” she said, “giving Raimey a ride.”

“He didn’t take no joy out of it. He’s all worried about his daddy.”

Annie looked up, her eyes filled with grief. “That boy’s gonna be a mess if his daddy goes to jail.”

“Well, maybe he ain’t goin’.”

“Don’t talk foolish. He’s goin’ all right. Mr. Ace say he ain’t got a chance.”

“When you talkin’ to Mr. Ace?”

“Everybody knows it. That judge, they call him the ‘Killer Judge.’ Mr. Ace said he ain’t never let a man off, and he always give ’em the most years he can think of.”

She looked up suddenly and squinted. “There comes Miss Ellie. Maybe she can cheer Miss Leah up.”

****

“Come in, Ellie,” Leah said. “My, that girl’s growing every day!”

Mattie, Ellie and Ace’s two-year-old blond daughter, began to clamor to be put down. Ellie set her down just as Raimey came into the room. Ellie saw the forlorn look on his face and quickly said, “I left some candy out in the wagon. Raimey, why don’t you go get it and share it with Mattie? Don’t make yourself sick, now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The two women watched as the two children went outside, and Ellie said, “I could stand a cup of coffee.”

“It’s on the stove.” Leah moved slowly and carefully, following Ellie to the kitchen.

“You sit down,” Ellie said. “I’ll fix the coffee.” She poured two mugs of coffee, laced her own with sugar, then sat down and said, “Are you all right?”

“Yes. This baby’s no trouble. I just wish it were here.”

The conversation went on aimlessly for a while, although both women were aware that they were dodging the subject. Finally Ellie said, “How’s Stuart?”

“Ellie, I don’t know. When I go to see him, we don’t have anything to say.” Leah’s face was tense and her lips trembled. “I know I ought to encourage him, but it’s like I’m all . . . well, I’m all frozen inside! I can’t pray. I can’t even think.” Tears suddenly began to roll down her face.

“I know it’s hard, honey. I know it is.”

“No, you don’t know, Ellie. I can’t hold my head up.”

“It’s not your fault, Leah.”

“I think it is.” And then Leah spoke the thought that had lain heavily on her heart, not just recently but for years. “If I had been the right kind of wife, I’d have kept my husband at home. I didn’t have whatever it is a woman has to have to hold on to a man.”

“Why, that’s foolishness! You can’t talk like that.” Ellie continued to speak for over half an hour, but she saw that it was hopeless. She had never seen Leah so despondent before. She and Ace had been terribly worried about her. Now she said, “Maybe he’ll get off and you can start over.” She saw
something pass over Leah’s features, and she said, “Don’t you think so?”

Leah shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t really think I can.”

Ellie reached over and took Leah’s hand. “Honey, I know he ain’t done right. I ain’t no Christian myself, but I know the Bible says something about forgiving folks. Especially a husband.”

Ellie’s words cut into Leah’s heart, and tears began to stream down her face. “I know it, Ellie, but somehow . . . I just can’t!”

****

Charles Fields stepped up beside Leah and took her arm. “Let me help you up these steps, Leah,” he said. The minister kept a firm grip on Leah’s arm and asked, “Who’s taking care of Raimey?”

“Annie.” Suddenly she turned and whispered, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Brother Fields. I can’t seem to pray anymore. It’s as if a part of me has died.”

“You’re not the first to have that happen, Leah. Some of the most courageous and best of God’s saints have gone through it. The old church fathers called it ‘the dark night of the soul.’ I’ve had a little of it myself, and I know how bitter it is. It’s as though God has died, or He’s shut you off and refuses to listen.”

Leah bit her lip as they reached the top of the steps to the church. “I feel like I’m totally lost.”

“You mustn’t feel like that. Come on. Let’s go in.”

Fields could see how hard the trial had been on Leah. It was taking its toll on the whole family, but it was affecting Leah’s faith. He escorted her to the front, where she took her seat beside the Winslows, then he took a seat and began to pray for her and for the outcome of the trial. He had faithfully gone every day and sat in the back of the courtroom and prayed silently for the entire Winslow family. As the trial
progressed, he, as well as the rest of the town, was amazed at how Mordecai Frasier had somehow found new life and had made a spirited defense for Stuart, but Fields remembered how in the eyes of the jury it seemed to have had little effect. When the time for the closing arguments had come, Fields had listened as the two men dueled in front of the courtroom, each trying to sway the jury. At the time, Fields had thought,
Richard should have gotten another lawyer. I have a bad feeling about this.
He could still picture Stuart sitting at the table with Frasier. At one point Stuart had turned and looked at Leah. Field’s gaze had shifted to Leah, and he saw her drop her head and slump her shoulders, and he knew that something was terribly wrong.

Right then the music started, and Fields shook the sad memory from his mind and reached for his sermon notes. He offered a silent prayer, for this week he had chosen to speak on God’s boundless love and His unfathomable mercy.

****

“You’ll pull out of this all right.” Ace Devainy was sitting beside Stuart in the small room off the main courtroom. The final arguments had been made, the defense and the prosecution rested, and the judge had charged the jury to deliberate behind closed doors and reach a verdict. Now there was nothing to do but wait. Devainy had pressured the sheriff and had been given permission to sit with Stuart as he waited. Ace looked over and saw that his friend’s face was pale.

“Ace, what will happen to Leah and Raimey and to the new baby? That’s what’s eating me alive.”

“Well, maybe the jury will see it was self-defense and let you off.”

“Have you been watching them, Ace? You know better.”

Devainy knew that Stuart was right. Leonard Stokes had outmaneuvered his opponent quite skillfully, for the jury was stacked with solid citizens, all handpicked by Stokes.

It would have been better,
Ace thought,
if the jury had
been a bunch of sorry rascals. Some people that could come in and understand a man’s weakness. They look like a bunch of Pharisees up there.

The bailiff stepped inside and said, “The jury’s comin’ in, Stuart.”

Stuart Winslow rose to his feet, and Ace watched him leave.
I’m afraid he’s in for it. I hope he can take it,
Ace thought, then he quickly joined the others in the courtroom awaiting the verdict.

****

Richard Winslow reached over and took his wife’s hand. His own hand was unsteady, and he had to struggle with his feelings against his own son. For years he had carried on a running battle with Stuart, about the way his son lived, and now all this had almost wrecked him. He had slept very little over the past few months, and his health had been affected. He turned to Diane and knew, however, that she was worse off than he was. He squeezed her hand and she turned to look at him. Then both of them turned to watch as the jury filed in. Richard was a man who knew people, and from the blank expressions on their faces, he drew no hope.

Judge Broz asked, “Have you reached a verdict, gentlemen of the jury?”

“We have, Your Honor.”

“How do you find the defendant?”

The foreman of the jury, a wealthy farmer dressed in a black suit, held a slip of paper in his hand. He looked directly at Stuart Winslow and said, “We find the defendant guilty of murder in the second degree.”

Everyone turned to look at Stuart, but his face seemed to be frozen, and he did not say a word.

Judge Broz studied the tall figure of Stuart Winslow. Though he was a hard man, he was just, or so he felt. He was dedicated to the courts and the system of law, believing strongly that they were ordained by God to keep anarchy
away from the people. And now as he sat examining the prisoner, his eyes drifted to Stuart’s wife and his parents. He felt compassion for the family, and at times such as this, he wished himself in another profession. Still it was a question he had settled long ago.

“This country was built on contracts. A contract of a man or a woman with their country. If a man signs up to be a soldier, he contracts to obey his superiors. If he violates that contract, he must pay the consequences. This country was also built on the contract of marriage, and you, Stuart Winslow, have violated your own marriage vows. You have debauched the wife of another man. You killed that man when he discovered you with his wife.” He hesitated only briefly, then he said in a level tone, “There are times when leniency is in order, but you have not shown any remorse. I sentence you to the state penitentiary for a term of twenty years. Remove the prisoner.”