Breaking Matthew (10 page)

But others, like Chester, were as dark as storm clouds, and I did everything I could to keep my distance from them. That was what I saw when I looked at Mr. Hyde through the cell bars. He was dark, so dark I could hardly stand to look at him. He sneered down at me, and I tucked my knees up to my chest.

“What’s it like being with a Negro?” he asked, his voice dry and rough.

“Wh—Excuse me?” I stuttered.

“Well, you know, I just thought you might be able to tell me the difference. I mean, I imagine it’s almost like being with an animal or something.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Why, sure you do. I’m pretty certain I read about it in the newspaper yesterday. You and your Negro boyfriend killed that white man when he caught you—”

“Now you listen here!” I pushed myself up from my cot, my anger overcoming my fear of him as I marched right up to where he stood and shoved a finger in his face. “I may be a woman, but I am not scared of you! Now you best get your filthy mind and body on back to your cot! I have never in my life—”

“Oh, don’t get so bent out of shape!” His eyebrows shot up and to my surprise, he stepped away from the bars. “I didn’t mean no harm or nothing.”

“Don’t you have an ounce of dignity? Don’t you have one iota of self-respect?”

His face went blank, and I imagined he was trying to figure out what an iota was. But then he furrowed his brow and came right back at me. “Don’t go throwing your big words around at me, young ’un. I done raised one smart-mouth child of my own, and I ain’t gonna take it from you. I’ll turn you over my lap quicker than you can say jack rabbit!”

We stared each other down, all the while my heart thumping in my chest like a racehorse’s hooves. What was I thinking? Getting this man riled up at me was about the dumbest thing I’d ever done. But something seemed to change in him, and he lost the sneer he’d had earlier. He shook his head and went back over to his cot, sitting down so hard I thought it was going to break.

I eased back over to my cot and curled up under the blanket. Maybe something I’d said or done had reminded him of his own children. Maybe he had just a tiny glimmer of light inside of him, buried under all that anger and disappointment. I closed my eyes and tried not to think of that sneer. Instead, I prayed for Mr. Hyde, that God would go into his heart and find that tiny ember, and he’d light Mr. Hyde on fire with his compassion. But if he couldn’t change Mr. Hyde’s heart, I prayed he’d protect me from his wrath.

Mr. Hyde didn’t say anything else for a while. I sat on my bed and scooted up against the wall, opening Daddy’s Bible on my lap to the Book of John. It was my favorite book, the one I turned to for comfort. Then I started reading out loud, ’cause that made it even more real to me. As I reached the fourth chapter, I was beginning to feel the comfort I’d been seeking, and I’d completely forgotten where I was, and what my troubles were. I was with Jesus as he sat by the well in Samaria.

“There cometh a woman of Samaria to draw water: Jesus saith unto her, Give me to drink. (For his disciples were gone away unto the city to buy meat.) Then saith the woman of Samaria unto him, How is it that thou being a Jew, askest drink of me, which am a woman of Samaria? for the Jews have no dealings with the Samaritans. Jesus answered and said unto her, If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is that saith to thee, Give me to drink; thou wouldest have asked of him, and he would have given thee living water.

“The woman saith unto him, Sir, thou hast nothing to draw with, and the well is deep: from whence then hast thou that living water? Art thou greater than our father Jacob, which gave us the well, and drank thereof himself, and his children, and his cattle?

“Jesus answered and said unto her, Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again: But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life.”

Resting my voice, I laid my head back against the wall and closed my eyes.
Lord, please speak your words of life to me now. Don’t leave me here all alone.

“You’re wasting your time.”

I looked over at Mr. Hyde sprawled across his bed. He hadn’t moved in hours. I’d figured he was asleep. “I apologize if I woke you, Mr. Hyde.”

He slid his arm away from his face and sat up on his bed. His dark eyes bore into mine. “Why you waste all your time praying and reading that malarkey? Don’t you know God’s abandoned you?”

“He hasn’t abandoned me. And He hasn’t abandoned you either.”

He pushed out a half laugh, half cough. “He’s definitely abandoned me. Long time ago. Not that I care. I don’t need Him anyhow.” He pointed at his chest. “I take care of myself. I don’t need God doing nothing for me.” He shook his head. “Living water. Why that’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”

I wondered what had happened to make him so bitter and angry. And despite our earlier confrontation, my heart softened for him. “I have that living water in me,” I said. “You can have it too. You don’t have to keep living like you are. There’s still hope.”

He waved me off with his hand and leaned back against his wall. “God done took everything I had. What is there left to hope for?”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you? You haven’t lost everything yet. There’s still time to get to know Him.”

He closed his eyes, and I figured he was done talking to me. I was about to go back to reading when he started talking real low. “My Caroline would be about fifteen now, I reckon. She died about five years ago, and she was just ten. So yeah. About fifteen.”

“What happened to her?”

“Scarlet fever. Got her and her momma both. Little Caroline died first, on Sunday. My Rachel followed her two days later. Said she couldn’t stand the thought of her baby being all alone without her.” He gave a chuckle that wasn’t much more than a sob. “I tried to catch it too, just so I wouldn’t be left here all alone. But I reckon God didn’t want me around, and I can’t say I blame him. So I been stuck here. Doing what I can to get by.”

I hesitated, wondering if I’d just draw more of his ire if I spoke. But then I stood and walked over to the bars separating our cells. “I lost my little brother to the Spanish flu when he was three. One of the worst times of my life. My parents’ too. My daddy nearly went mad with grief.”

Mr. Hyde picked at his blanket like he wasn’t listening, but I kept on going. “Then a few years ago, my daddy died from diabetes. I prayed like everything for God to heal him, and when he died, I thought it was because I didn’t have enough faith. But I learned that death is part of life. Losing people is part of loving them. You can’t have one without the other.”

Mr. Hyde sniffed and finally looked up at me. “That’s all well and good for you. But I ain’t got nothing left. You still got folks who love you. Like that boy in here fussing over you. Bet your momma still cares for you too. Don’t nobody care if I live or die.”

“I care.” I hoped as he looked at me, he could see that I meant it. “Jesus cares. Maybe if I pray with you—”

“Young lady, I’m sure you’re a fine person, and maybe you didn’t do what they say you did. Anyway, I hope not. I thank you for trying to be kind to me. But all I want is to see my girls again. To be the man I was before all this happened. And there ain’t nothing in this world anyone, not even Jesus, can do to make that happen.”

“Mr. Hyde, if it’s all the same to you, I’d still like to pray for you.”

“Go on, then. I reckon you got the right to pray as you want. But it’ll be a waste of time.”

I dropped my head and closed my eyes. “Lord, I thank You for putting me here next to Mr. Hyde just when he needed to hear a word of encouragement from You. I ask You to take his hardened heart, and fill it with Your hope. Give him the peace of knowing his girls are safe in Your loving arms, and that if he only trusts in You, he can be with them again someday. Give him the strength to let go of his anger, and all the despair he’s endured. Show him Your love and mercy and forgiveness. Jesus, I pray in Your name. Amen.”

When I looked up again, Mr. Hyde sat on the edge of his bed, his shoulders slumped forward, his chin on his chest, and tears streaming down his face. He lowered himself down until he was lying on his side facing the wall.

Mr. Hyde didn’t say anything else to me the rest of the night. He just curled up on his bed with his back to me. I figured there was nothing more I could do for him except to pray. So when I went to bed, I prayed for him over and over, begging God to show Himself to Mr. Hyde. And to speak to me again too. Then I prayed for Mother and Asa, that they wouldn’t be too burdened with trying to help me. I hated the anguish I was putting on Mother.

Then I prayed for Matthew. I prayed God would lead him away from me and toward the future God intended. I prayed for strength to keep my heart from being broken all to pieces again, while still being able to forgive. Somehow.

Chapter Nine

Ruby

I eventually drifted off to sleep, dreaming of Matthew as if I hadn’t just prayed for God to take him out of my thoughts. At some point during the night, I heard my name.

Ruby.

My eyes flew open, and I sat up. Mr. Hyde was asleep, and no one was in the cell room with us. But I knew beyond any doubt, someone had called my name. I sat there for a moment wondering what I should do, but then I decided there wasn’t anything for me to do about it. So I lay back down and closed my eyes again.

Ruby.

This time I kept my eyes closed and didn’t move.

Ruby, the door is open.

I waited for more, ’cause that didn’t make much sense. But nothing else came. I wondered if maybe I’d heard the voice wrong. What door was open? Was there some journey God was getting ready to send me on? Or maybe he was talking about Mr. Hyde? Maybe the door was open for me to talk to him more about God’s power to change his life. I certainly couldn’t make heads or tails about it, so I eventually drifted off to sleep again.

The next time I awoke, it was still dark, but I could hear sobs coming from Mr. Hyde’s cell. They were quiet sobs, and he mumbled something to himself about “be seeing you soon.” I wondered if he was praying.

But then I felt something uneasy inside me, like something dark had come in there with us. Something was very wrong. I pulled the chain to the light bulb above me. Then I got up and walked over to the bars between us, straining to see Mr. Hyde in the dim light. When my eyes and mind finally put the scene together, my heart raced to life. Mr. Hyde was sprawled across the bed on his back, his arm hanging off the side and blood dripping from his wrist.

I rattled the bars and screamed at the top of my lungs. “Help! Someone help! John? Please help!”

A moment later I heard shuffling around in the office outside the door. I screamed again. “Help! Mr. Hyde’s hurt! Please!”

Mr. Hyde didn’t move the whole time I was making my ruckus. I wondered if he was already dead. John burst through the door and fumbled around to find the light switch. “What’s going on in here?” he called.

“It’s Mr. Hyde! He’s injured!”

The big light finally came on, and John looked in on Mr. Hyde. He unlocked the cell and rushed over to him, trying to feel his neck for a pulse. “I need to call the Sheriff.”

“Is he alive?”

John stood and ran out of the cell. “Yes, barely.”

“Then let me help him! I’m a nurse. I can bandage the wounds while you get help.”

He stopped and looked at me like he was considering it for a moment. “Probably best you stay in there. I’ll take care of this.”

Then he was gone. I stood there and watched the life drain out of Mr. Hyde, my mind racing over what I could possibly do. He needed bandages. Fast. If only I could’ve gotten out of my cell! I paced back and forth for a moment, praying God would help Mr. Hyde. Then I forced myself to stop moving, to still my thoughts and listen for God’s word.

Ruby, the door is open.

I opened my eyes and looked at my cell door. It was cracked open.

I raced through it and went into Mr. Hyde’s cell, kneeling beside him and ripping off a strip of my dress. I wrapped it around his wrist. Then I reached for his arm furthest away, and I saw it was also cut and seeping blood. A shard of metal, maybe a piece from the bed, clanged to the floor. He’d cut his arm long ways, up the vein. I wouldn’t be able to stop it with a simple wrap.

I closed my eyes again, and I stilled my thoughts.
Lord, what would you have me do?

The air around me went perfectly still, and the most wonderful peace flooded my heart. I took ahold of Mr. Hyde’s wrist and I prayed along with the words God laid on my heart. Not my own words, not from my own mind. But words He spoke through me. Words of grace and hope. Words of healing.

As the Spirit began to fade, I looked down at Mr. Hyde’s wrist. No more bleeding. I tore two more strips off my dress and wrapped them around the wound. Then I felt his neck for his pulse. It was weak, but he was still alive. He moaned as his eyes fluttered open.

“Mmm…gonna…see my girls,” he mumbled.

I knelt down to his ear and whispered. “Not yet, my friend. Not yet.”

I heard commotion out in the sheriff’s office, so I checked the bandages one more time before darting back into my cell. I closed the door behind me, and it clicked shut. Not a second later, John came barreling back into the room with strips of cloth. He knelt beside Mr. Hyde and picked up his right arm. He looked over the bandage. Then the left arm.

“Ruby?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You been out of your cell?” He stood and walked toward the bars that separated us. His black hair was all a mess, and his eyes were wild.

I didn’t want to lie, so I just shrugged my shoulders and dropped my gaze to the floor. He left Mr. Hyde’s cell and came over to the door of my cell. He shook it. Locked. He stood there for what seemed like the longest time, just staring at me. I finally lifted my eyes back to his. He was looking at the bottom of my yellow dress.

John went back over to Mr. Hyde and lifted one of his arms, studying the yellow bandage. He pulled it back just a bit, and then he dropped the arm. He turned wide, dark eyes back to me.

“Ruby, he ain’t even bleeding.” He took a few steps toward me. “What did you do?”

I spent the rest of the morning hours on my knees. One minute I was begging God for Mr. Hyde to be all right. The next, I was singing praises that I’d felt His spirit move in my heart again. I’d longed for it so deeply. And what a blessing it was! My heart was so overwhelmed with joy; I couldn’t hold back my tears. So I sobbed, and sang, and sobbed some more.

“Ruby, what’s wrong?” I turned when I heard Matthew’s voice behind me. His face was stricken; his eyes nearly frantic. He looked around and froze when he saw the blood on the floor of Mr. Hyde’s cell. “What’s going on? Are you all right? Where’s Mr. Hyde?”

I stood and came to the edge of my cell, wanting to pour out all my joy on him. But I caught myself just in time. He wouldn’t understand. “I’m fine. Really. I was just praying and spending time with God.”

“You’re crying. And there’s…there’s blood.” He gripped the bars in front of me.

I wiped away my tears and shook my head. “It’s okay now. Last night, Mr. Hyde tried to kill himself.”

“What? Did he try to hurt you?”

“No, no. I swear, I’m fine. I’m better than fine. It’s all okay. He’s going to be okay.”

Matthew stared at me, a flicker of fear crossing his face. “Ruby, what exactly happened in here last night?”

I wasn’t sure how much to tell him, but I also knew he’d find out most of it anyway. “Mr. Hyde cut his wrists with a shard of metal from his bed. John was out front, so I called for help. He came in here and saw that Mr. Hyde was in bad shape. Then he called for the sheriff, and they took him over to the hospital.”

Matthew let go of the bars and rubbed the back of his neck. It seemed he was having a hard time looking at me. “Did you…um…did you heal him?”

“No.” Relief flickered in his eyes, until I finished with the truth. “God did.”

He dropped his hand as if he’d been burned. “What were you thinking, Ruby? You can’t be doing that kind of thing in here!” Shaking his head, he went to pacing along the bars. “Look, I don’t pretend to understand everything about your…your gift. But it’s a bad idea to be doing that in here. Especially with Cass after you again.”

“I don’t see how this has anything to do with Brother Cass or my case. A man was in trouble. I helped. It’s as simple as that.”

“No, it ain’t simple at all. This explains why Mr. Garrett was out front, talking to the sheriff. I knew something was up.”

“It might not have anything to do with me.”

He blew out a puff of air, still pacing just beyond the bars. I reached my hand out and grabbed his arm. “Hey. What are you so afraid of?”

For a moment Matthew looked down at my hand clamped on his arm, before slowly bringing his eyes up to mine. My heart thumped wildly.

“You, Ruby,” he said quietly. “I’m afraid
for
you. Don’t you realize that everything you do right now is going to be twisted against you? You have to think about your future. You have to stop this. At least until the trial is over.”

“Matthew Doyle, don’t you even believe in your own healing anymore? Don’t you remember?”

He leaned his forehead against the bars and closed his eyes. “Yes. I remember.”

“Then you know healing comes from the Spirit of God. It’s not something I do at my choosing. I’m only the vessel. I can’t ignore God’s calling. He tells me when He’s going to heal. It’s all from Him.”

Matthew sighed and pushed away from the bars. “Of course it is. I get that, okay. I just don’t want you to jeopardize your future.”

“You still don’t believe in me, do you?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked everywhere but at me. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You don’t believe this power is from God. You think Cass is right about me.”

Mention of Cass’s name seemed to trigger something in Matthew. “Hey, that ain’t true!” Frowning, he shook his finger at me like he was scolding a child. “Don’t you say nothing like that again, you hear me? That old goat don’t know nothing about you.”

I waited for him to answer the rest of my accusation, but he didn’t say anything else. That told me everything I needed to know.

The door opened and Mr. Garrett walked toward my cell. Mr. Oliver was close behind. They stopped just beside Matthew.

“Miss Ruby,” Mr. Garrett said, “I need to ask you a few questions about last night.”

“Yes, sir,” I said.

Matthew pushed up close to the bars again. “Don’t say nothing.”

Mr. Garrett turned to Matthew with his chest puffed out. “Son, I think you should go now. I need to speak with Miss Graves and her lawyer alone. You have no part in this.”

Matthew shook his head and muttered under his breath. “I’ll be back in an hour. Remember, don’t say nothing.”

After the door closed behind Matthew, Mr. Garrett asked me to explain exactly what happened the night before. Contrary to what Matthew thought of me, I knew my position was precarious, and the less I said the better. Especially until I was certain of whether or not I could trust Mr. Oliver.

“What does this have to do with the charges against me?” I asked.

Mr. Garrett leaned forward. “I’d appreciate it if you’d let me do the asking, and you do the answering.”

“It’s a legitimate question, Charles,” Mr. Oliver said. “If you intend to bring new charges against Miss Graves, then do so. But what happened in the cells last night has no bearing on her case, and you know it.”

Mr. Garrett’s icy stare travelled from me to Mr. Oliver. “Does she have something to hide? I’d think if she was completely innocent of any wrongdoing, then explaining the events that took place here would be of little consequence.”

“Look, it’s real simple,” I said. “Mr. Hyde cut himself. I saw he was hurt. I called for help. Deputy Frost came in and looked him over before calling for the sheriff. I simply bandaged his wrists using strips torn from my dress.”

Mr. Garrett’s mouth slid into a grin. “Then you left your cell?”

Mr. Oliver put a hand up to silence me. “She answered your question. That’s enough. She’ll answer no more.”

Mr. Garrett looked at me like he knew he’d won something, but I wasn’t quite sure what game we were playing. Then he turned to Mr. Oliver. “Well, as long as we’re all here, we might as well discuss the plea deal you asked about.”

“I’m not pleading guilty,” I said.

Mr. Oliver’s eyes widened, but he didn’t contradict me. Mr. Garrett actually looked pleased. “All right then. I suppose I’ll see you in court.”

Then he bent over and took a look at the lock on my cell door, after a while straightening and calling for the sheriff. Before leaving, he offered me another victorious smile.

“You know, Mr. Hyde was very lucky it was you next to him, what with you being experienced with wounds and all. Some might call it a miracle he survived.”

I kept my mouth shut, feeling a cold dread work its way up my spine. What if my secret wasn’t so secret? Would he try to use my gift against me somehow?

Mr. Garrett’s words hung in the air after he left, along with the growing realization that I couldn’t trust anybody in the whole wide world. I turned to Mr. Oliver and gripped the bars. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his handkerchief.

“I need to know something,” I said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Just where do we stand? You and me, I mean. Are you on my side?”

“Well, of course I’m on your side,” he said carefully, putting the handkerchief back in the breast pocket of his suit. “Why ever would you ask that?”

“Have you been talking to Brother Cass about me?”

“Brother Cass is the preacher at the church I attend, and yes, he has shown interest in your case. But I promise you I have told him nothing that isn’t public record. And I won’t tell him anything at all if you don’t want me to.”