Breaking Matthew (11 page)

“That man despises me. Has he tried to get you to do anything against me?”

There was a split second of hesitation. “No, not really. He’s just shown some interest in your case. I assumed it was innocent curiosity at first, but after what he said in the paper, I came to the same conclusion you just mentioned. It’s true, he does seem to have a negative opinion of you. But I promise that will in no way affect my work on your case.”

“Mr. Oliver, do you believe me? Do you believe I was defending myself?”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe, honey.”

“It matters to me. If you don’t believe me, then how can you speak for me?”

He ran his hand through his thinning hair. I could see he was torn. Over what, I wasn’t quite sure. After a few moments, he met my gaze again. “Listen, Ruby. If I’m going to do the best job I can to defend you, then you have to tell me the whole truth about what happened in that barn. There can’t be any surprises. It only takes one little detail you left out for Mr. Garrett to paint you as a liar, and then you’re through. I want to believe you, because you seem like a nice girl with a kind heart. But I’m not convinced you’ve told me everything. So it’s not a matter of whether or not I believe you. It’s a matter of whether or not you trust me enough to tell me the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”

My stomach churned as I considered telling the whole truth. Could I trust Mr. Oliver? I doubted it. And I couldn’t take the chance. No matter what, I had to hold onto my secrets. I’d never tell anyone what really happened in that barn. Ever.

“I’ve told you everything,” I said.

He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t question me further. “All right then. Let’s talk about our strategy moving forward. Given the unusual nature of this case, I’d recommend that we not ask the jury to consider manslaughter as an option. It’s murder or nothing. And no one in their right mind would convict you of murder with the evidence they have.”

“But what if they do?”

Mr. Oliver fell silent for some time as he considered my question. At last he spoke. “Then you’d most likely go to prison for a very long time.” He looked up and held my gaze, the possibility he had not mentioned left hanging in the air between us.

But I couldn’t bring myself to utter the words “electric chair” any more than he could. I dropped my eyes, hugged my waist and prayed for wisdom. “Do we have to decide this now?”

“No. We can decide any time before the trial starts. But I’ll tell you, in my experience, when the jury has the option of finding someone guilty of manslaughter, they usually take it. It’s hard to convince twelve men that you’re completely innocent of any wrongdoing. But it’s also hard to convince them that you’re completely guilty.”

“All right, Mr. Oliver,” I said, still unsure about the whole thing. “I trust you. We’ll do what you think is best.”

Chapter Ten

Matthew

I just knew Mr. Garrett was going to twist something awful out of Ruby healing Emmitt Hyde. I wasn’t quite sure how, but I was even more convinced that I had to get her out of that cell as soon as possible. I tried talking to Father again. But things ended up even worse than before, with me becoming so infuriated that I moved all my things out of the house and into my brother Frank’s house in Cullman. Probably worked out for the best anyhow. I was closer to Ruby for the time being.

I spent the rest of the week helping Dr. and Mrs. Fisher, Asa and Mrs. Graves talk to folks about going to the special service at Ruby’s church on Sunday. We were met with enough support and encouragement for me to get my hopes up just a bit. Asa cautioned me against it, especially when Mr. Hatchet, the owner of the drugstore, said he’d overheard talk of the Calhouns busting up the service. But I was not going to be swayed. I refused to fail Ruby again. And I prayed like I’d never prayed before. Surely, if anyone had God on her side, it was Ruby.

When Sunday rolled around, the little sanctuary was filled to the brim with folks. Some were even standing in the back. Before things got started, I spoke with Asa and Mrs. Graves, outlining my hopes for enough money to get Ruby out of jail. They didn’t share my optimism.

“Of course we’re praying for the best,” Mrs. Graves said, “but these folks have so little to give. Seems like people are worse off now than ever.”

“But look around,” I said. “Something about Ruby moves people. Everyone we talked to had some story to share of when she helped them out in a time of need. Surely they can manage to return her kindness?”

Asa patted me on the shoulder. “You done all you could, son. And we’re mighty thankful. But it’s in God’s hands now, and we just have to pray. Put your trust in Him. Not in these poor folks.”

He sounded just like Ruby. “Is James not coming?” I asked, trying not to be too obvious about shifting the conversation.

“He says he don’t know which way to turn,” Mrs. Graves said. “He’s all in a fuss about being in the middle of things. Says he can’t stand to see his family torn apart. I don’t believe he’ll show up.”

I figured as much. “What about Henry? Any word from him?”

“No, nothing.”

My anger flared. How could her brothers leave her hanging out in the wind like that? She deserved so much better.

The music started, so we turned to the front and sang the opening song. I managed to control my nerves through announcements and prayer requests, more singing and more praying. Then a lot more singing, and a lot more praying. I kept my thoughts on Ruby, praying for a miracle, at least the kind that made sense. When the general offering plate was passed around, I couldn’t help my hope that people would save their money to give when the plate came around for Ruby. Seemed like an awful thing to hope for, but I did nonetheless.

About the time the offering was completed, I heard a bit of mumbling from the back of the church on the opposite side from where I sat. I turned my head along with the others to see what was going on, and my stomach dropped. Mr. and Mrs. Calhoun made their way across the back of the church, sliding in between some others near the back windows. I could tell by their hard-set jaws they were not there to support Ruby. All I could do was pray they weren’t there to sabotage her either.

Brother Harbison took the pulpit and welcomed everyone to the service. He looked around the sanctuary with a kind smile, and thanked the visitors for coming as well. Then he reminded folks that there would be a special offering at the end of the sermon to support Ruby’s family. It was all I could do to keep from looking back at the Calhouns, though I’m sure many others didn’t restrain themselves.

Brother Harbison began by reading from the fifth chapter of Acts, describing when several of the Apostles were arrested and thrown in prison. An angel from the Lord came to them, opened the doors, and told them to go preach the words of life in the temple. So they did. And when the chief priests and teachers of the law found out they were no longer in the prison, they had the Apostles brought by force before them.

“And did the Apostles act out of fear for their lives?” Brother Harbison said. “No. They stood up to the religious leaders of their time, even unto death. In fact, the leaders were so infuriated by the Apostles’ determination to lay Jesus’s death on their heads that they rose up to kill them too!” He looked around the congregation with accusing eyes. “How many of you would be so willing to stand by your faith, that you would die to preserve it? How far would you go? How much would you sacrifice?”

An uneasy sensation worked its way over me as I considered the questions. I had no doubt about Ruby. There didn’t seem to be a thing in this world that could knock her off her faith, not even death. How did she do that? I was filled with too many doubts and questions. I’d blow over in a strong wind. I knew it.

Finally, Brother Harbison finished with the end of the chapter. “And when they had called the apostles, and beaten them, they commanded that they should not speak in the name of Jesus, and let them go. And they departed from the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for his name. And daily in the temple, and in every house, they ceased not to teach and preach Jesus Christ.”

Brother Harbison took a long pause and seemed to consider his words before moving on. “Now I know there are many in our community who are suffering, so I do not say this lightly. But take note of the mindset of the apostles. They
rejoiced
because they were counted worthy to suffer.
Worthy
to suffer. Think on that for a moment. Is suffering some kind of badge of honor? Is it something we should consider a blessing?” He paused again. “Maybe it is, in certain circumstances. Now I don’t believe the Scriptures are talking about suffering from the consequences of our sin. But suffering because we refuse to back down from our faith? Now that is an honor, and a blessing. And we should pray for the honor to suffer for the name of Jesus.”

I closed my eyes and wished he’d talk on something else. I wished he’d focus on the angel setting those apostles free. Or how God was going to support Ruby in her time of need, just like he did for the apostles. I could think of many other avenues that sermon could have traveled. But there was nothing I could do about it. I just hoped it wasn’t God trying to tell me that Ruby was about to suffer even more than she already had.

Finally, Brother Harbison concluded the service. We sang a hymn, and he asked everyone to be seated. Then he took a quick, nervous glance toward the back corner of the sanctuary where the Calhouns still sat. “Now, we must turn our hearts to one of our dear sisters. As you all know, Miss Ruby is currently in jail awaiting trial. I’ll not go into the details of her case, as that’s for the Lord to sort out. But many of you have been cared for by Miss Ruby and know that she has a heart for the Lord’s service. I ask you to pray and consider what you can do now to support her and her family in this time of need.”

I was surprised he didn’t make a more impassioned plea. I wanted to take the pulpit myself and explain exactly who Ruby was, exactly who Chester was, and exactly what he’d done to her before. These people needed to know, so they could reach as deep into their shallow pockets as possible. But Brother Harbison only lifted his hand and said a quiet prayer.

When he finished, he looked around at the faces in the congregation with a tight smile. “Now Mrs. Graves, will you please come forward and share with us what your family’s needs are.”

Ruby’s mother eased her way past a couple at the end of the pew, strolled down the aisle and stood in front of the pulpit. “I want to thank all of you for coming out today. I know how hard these times are on many of you. We are grateful for any amount that the Lord chooses to provide today. Of course, we’re praying to receive enough to cover Ruby’s bond, but anything will help her. We just ask that you pray and give as the Lord leads you.” She made her way back to her seat, her head low like she was embarrassed.

Then Brother Harbison spoke again. “Would anyone else like to add anything before we take up the offering?”

Two older gentleman rose from their seats and approached the front of the sanctuary with tiny straw baskets in their hands. I dropped my head and leaned onto my knees to pray. This was it. Time for God to work that miracle. But a rough, deep voice came from the back of the church.

“I’d like to say something, Pastor.” I knew that voice. It was Mr. Calhoun.

“Of course,” Brother Harbison said.

I turned my head to see Mr. Calhoun come about halfway down the aisle before he turned to face everyone. He held his straw hat over his chest as he spoke. “I’d like to ask all of you to remember my son, Chester Calhoun, today as well. We ain’t here to ask for your donations. The good Lord has provided for our needs. But I do ask that you pray for wisdom before you reach into your pockets. Now, Chester was no saint. We all know that. But he didn’t deserve to die, especially like that. And all we want for him is justice.”

My stomach rolled with every sentence out of that man’s mouth. It was all I could do to keep from jumping out of my seat and telling him to hightail it out of there.

“Let me just say this,” he continued. “Miss Graves was well-known to keep company with Negroes, and her associations have brought a great deal of shame on this community. I pray you’ll all ask yourself if you really want to give support to someone who’ll put Negroes ahead of her family and her community.”

I couldn’t stand it anymore. I pushed up from my seat and pointed my finger at that hypocrite. “How dare you come in here and speak lies against Ruby! You accuse yourself with your own words, Percy Calhoun!”

Asa pulled roughly on my arm, yanking me down in my seat.

“He ain’t gonna say those things about Ruby,” I protested to him, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Now, let’s everyone settle down,” Brother Harbison said over the rising tide of voices.

Mr. Calhoun turned and grabbed Mrs. Calhoun from where she stood in the back, marching themselves out of the church. He shot an angry glance over the crowd at me, and I hoped he caught the meaning behind my stare as well.

Brother Harbison got everyone quieted down again. He called for reflection and prayer, and then we passed around the straw baskets. I tried my best to calm myself, but I could tell the whole atmosphere had changed with Calhoun’s words. I didn’t even need to know the final count of the donations at the end. God had once again left Ruby to languish without his support. And I’d have to find some way to bridge the gap.

Once the church had emptied and the money had been counted, it was official. The people Ruby had so faithfully poured her heart and soul into had managed to cobble together a measly seventy-nine dollars and fifty-seven cents.

Words could not begin to describe the fury and frustration coursing through my veins. In one fell swoop, I knocked the basket and all its contents to the floor. “What kind of game is God playing at here?”

As I paced the front of the sanctuary, Asa kept his cool. “Now listen, Matthew. Surely you didn’t expect this little congregation of poor folks to raise four thousand dollars today.”

“It’s not that. I just thought that if we prayed hard enough—and after everything Ruby’s done in His name—I just thought He’d work a miracle or something.”

“Don’t go getting all upset,” Asa said. “We have to remain strong in our faith. There’s a reason for all of this. We have to trust in the Lord.”

Stopping dead in my tracks, I pointed my finger at him. “You spout all this high theology, and talk about miracles and faith, but when we need Him the most, when someone who has the ultimate faith in Him needs His help…what happens? He doesn’t show up! I don’t understand. It’s like He asks everything of her, and gives nothing in return.”

Mrs. Graves was busy cleaning up my mess. She straightened and tried to reason with me. “Listen, Matthew, I know it’s hard to look at the circumstances and see God’s hand, especially in the middle of the storm. Most times, we don’t see His perfect plan until long after the dust has settled. Now, Ruby cares for you, and she needs you to stay strong. She can’t carry the weight of her own doubts and fears and add yours to it as well.”

I forced myself to consider her words, knowing she was right. But how was I supposed to face Ruby and tell her I’d failed her again?

On Monday morning I met Asa and Mrs. Graves at the jail to tell Ruby about the church service. Mrs. Graves had a clean dress in her hands, which only underscored the fact that Ruby was set to spend a lot more time in jail if I didn’t figure out a way to get back the money Father took from me.

Sheriff Peterson was seated at his desk as we came in, and he came around and shook all our hands. “Mr. Oliver’s meeting with Ruby right now. You all can wait here, or come back in a while if you want.”

We agreed to wait, so I went outside to take in the fresh air and think through a plan to confront Father. ’Course, everything I came up with seemed to be no good. Talking had gotten me nowhere, so that was out. But maybe he’d put the cash where I could find it, if I just thought hard enough. Where had I seen him put money before? I couldn’t recall him keeping cash stored in any particular place. Seemed like he always put it in the bank—he expected his money to earn its keep as much as anyone else. I couldn’t very well break into the bank.