Forsaken (29 page)

I settled on a favorite player, Billy Johnston, the Rangers’ second baseman. He was fast and scrappy, and he’d established himself as the team leader in a season in which they had rallied from a poor start to challenge for the division title. Johnston was batting with two outs and runners on second and third when Simon took off his reading glasses.

“It’s amazing what some of these people went through.”

I didn’t take my eyes off the television. “What people?”

“The martyrs in this book. Listen to this one.”

I smiled politely, but the count on Johnston had gone to two-and-two. I shifted my position in my seat to make it easier to monitor the game with my peripheral vision while he spoke.

“It’s around the year two hundred,” he said. “The Roman emperor decrees that no one can become a Christian or a Jew, period. He apparently didn’t intend to bother people who were already Christians and Jews. He just didn’t want any new ones around.”

Johnston doubled off the wall, knocking in two runs, but I was careful to keep one eye on Simon.

“There’s a twenty-two-year-old Roman woman named Perpetua, who has recently given birth to a baby boy. Then there’s another woman who is Perpetua’s slave. Her name is Felicity.”

I turned both eyes toward him. “They had people named Felicity in Rome? I thought that was a Beverly Hills thing.”

“Me too.” He held up the book. “That’s what it says, though. Anyway, to top things off, Felicity is pregnant. Perpetua and Felicity both become Christians, and the Romans find out. The officials round them up, along with a group of other converts.

“The authorities practically beg them to renounce their faith. That’s all they have to do to go free. They’re in a horrible situation. Perpetua’s frantic about her baby. Felicity is worried about her baby-to-be. Some members of the local church bribe the jailer, and he allows them to bring Perpetua’s son to her. She keeps him in the dungeon with her and nurses him. In the meantime, Felicity is now eight months pregnant. You can imagine that a dungeon is a pretty uncomfortable place to be pregnant.”

I pulled one leg up underneath me. By this time I had lost track of the baseball game. “I don’t think I want to hear how this turns out. It’s going to make me cry, isn’t it?”

“What
doesn’t
make you cry?”

“You’re a laugh a minute.”

He smiled. “I think you can tough this one out. Now would you let me finish?”

“Sorry.”

“So they have the trial, and Perpetua’s father shows up. He holds her baby in front of her and begs her to renounce Jesus and live. The Roman officials also plead
with her. Apparently, no one really wants to kill these two. But Perpetua refuses, and so does Felicity. They are sentenced to death. They’re to be taken to the amphitheater during the next gladiator games and torn apart by wild animals.”

I groaned.

Simon wagged his finger. “No, no, wait a minute. There’s a catch that might save Felicity. Roman law doesn’t allow the execution of a pregnant woman. Felicity is actually upset by this, though, because she doesn’t want to be spared while the rest of the Christians die. Anyway, it becomes a moot point. Felicity gives birth to a baby girl two days before the execution. Her daughter is immediately adopted by a local Christian family.”

“You may as well give me the details. How does it end?”

“They go to the amphitheater. The soldiers flog them in front of the crowd. Then they let the wild animals loose. The women are mauled and half-eaten. At the end, the soldiers stab them just to make sure they’re dead.”

“What happened to Perpetua’s baby?”

“It doesn’t say. I assume she had a husband. He probably took care of it.”

“Thank you so much. My evening wouldn’t have been complete if I hadn’t heard that story.”

He laughed. “You’re welcome. Seriously, though, it’s inspiring what they did.”

I clicked off the television. Sadie raised her head, but when she saw we weren’t getting up, she rested her chin
on my leg and closed her eyes. I scratched her behind the ears. “You’ve been reading about martyrs for weeks. I have to believe there’s a reason, and I’m worried that I know what it is. You’re really going to do this missionary thing, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. I’m going public with it in a week or so.”

I scratched Sadie faster—so fast that she opened one eye and peered up at me.

“And why do you care?” he said.

I took a deep breath and let it out. “Because you and Kacey are the closest thing I’ve had to a family for a long time. I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want it to end. There, I said it. Does that satisfy you?”

His voice softened. “I’m glad you feel that way. I want you to feel that way. You’ll always be welcome here, Taylor.”

That’s when the question entered my mind again, the same question that Meg had raised: Why was Simon so willing to welcome me into his life? He had only known me for a brief time. I was a proven lush, and I hadn’t demonstrated any strong religious beliefs. Why had he allowed me in so quickly and willingly?

“Thank you,” I said. “That means a lot to me.”

He smiled and nodded at the dog. She’d fallen asleep with her chin on my leg. “And Sadie welcomes you too.”

The conversation died a natural death, but the question lingered. I assumed there was no single
answer—and that whatever answers did exist would be complex and obscure. As it turned out, I was wrong. The answer was simple. I just didn’t know it yet.

ONCE SIMON MADE UP his mind to promote the idea of a televised debate between Christianity and Islam, publicizing the idea was no challenge. He had been a huge international personality before the kidnapping. His additional notoriety since had ensured nearly immediate access to any talk show in America. The big issue was which show to choose for the initial announcement.

After much discussion, Elise and Simon decided on the Lawrence Sylvan show. Sylvan had been the leading political talk show host for more than ten years. No friend to evangelicals, he had roasted religious leaders many times, always probing for controversy. Elise and Simon felt that of all the major talk show hosts, Sylvan would be the
most likely to seize on the debate issue and keep it—and the controversy—alive as a tool to drive his ratings.

The evening that Simon was to announce his debate challenge, Elise commented that he was the calmest she’d ever seen him before a public appearance. After the makeup people finished with him, the three of us sat in the green room of the television studio. He munched cashews and read a
Sports Illustrated
.

Elise pushed a handwritten page of notes in front of him. “I’ve written down some talking points that you can refer to when the camera’s not on you.”

Simon flipped a page of his magazine. “Thanks, but there’s no need.”

She frowned. “You know you have a tendency to forget things when the lights come on.”

He looked up and smiled. “I’m fine, really.” He bent over and tightened his shoelaces. Just as he finished, a slender blonde in a tight skirt walked into the green room.

“Reverend Mason, Lawrence is ready for you.”

Simon brushed a cashew off his corduroy sport coat. “Okay, let’s go.”

Elise stepped in front of him. “One last hair check.” She brushed at the close-cropped hair above his ears.

He swatted her hand. “Good grief, Elise, I don’t have any hair!” He stepped around her and followed Miss Tight Skirt out of the room.

Elise clutched her notebook to her chest and glanced at me. I pretended to be looking at a magazine. She brushed at a wrinkle in her dress and sat down.

As Elise and I waited for Simon to go on the air, we both gave an inordinate amount of attention to the commercial running on the flat-screen television on the wall. A talking dog was selling air freshener. When the commercial ended, the intro to the Sylvan show played. The camera cut to a close-up of Lawrence Sylvan smiling out from behind his wire-rimmed glasses. He sat behind a black marble-topped table, directly across from Simon. Each had a light-blue coffee mug in front of him with the network logo facing the camera.

“We’re pleased to have with us tonight, The Reverend Simon Mason, in his first television appearance since his press conference shortly after his daughter, Kacey, was released by her kidnappers a few months ago. Welcome, Reverend Mason.”

Simon smiled. “Thank you. I’m glad to be here, Lawrence. Please call me Simon.”

“Okay, Simon. So how is Kacey?”

“She’s doing fine. She’s really something. Much tougher than I am, that’s for sure.”

“She really is remarkable. I wish you’d brought her tonight. We would have been happy to have her.”

“You’ve got kids, I know, Lawrence. You can understand why my sister and I do our best to keep Kacey out of the spotlight.”

“Of course. Has she had any lingering problems, either physical or emotional? It was a harrowing experience.”

“She’s getting along very well. As I said, she’s pretty tough.”

“That’s great to hear. I know you’re not here to talk about Kacey, but if I hadn’t asked about her my viewers would have rioted. She must be the most popular young lady in America right now.”

“She just wants to be a college kid.”

“We wish her all the best. Getting down to business, I understand that your experience with Kacey’s kidnapping has made you feel that you’ve been called to a different kind of ministry—one that arises from the fact that Kacey’s kidnappers were Muslims.”

“That’s right. I’ve decided—”

“Have you forgiven them, Simon? Kacey’s kidnappers, that is?”

Simon put both hands around the coffee mug in front of him. “I’m doing my best. It isn’t easy. I’ve gotten to the point where I no longer want to kill them.” He smiled. “That’s progress, I guess. It’s probably better than they’re doing. I’m sure they’d still be happy enough to kill me.”

Sylvan laughed. “One of the things I’ve always liked about you is that you seem like a regular guy. I think a lot of ministers would have come on here and said, ‘Of course I’ve forgiven them,’ when in reality I don’t know if they would have.”

“I’m no saint, and I’ve never pretended to be. I know what God wants me to do. He wants me to forgive them. I’m trying my best to do that. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. And just because I’m trying, it doesn’t mean I’m going to be successful immediately. Over time, I’ll get there.”

“Do you hate them sometimes?”

“I had hatred in my heart when this happened, you better believe it. Quite honestly, I still have those feelings from time to time. Each time I see Kacey’s missing finger I have to fight that darkness inside. You’ve got, what, two girls, Lawrence?”

“A girl and a boy.”

“You can imagine what it would be like if someone did something like that to one of them.”

“A nightmare.”

“I’m fighting it. I’m working on it. Each day it seems to get a little bit easier to think about forgiveness.”

“I can understand how difficult that must be. I’m sorry, I interrupted you a moment ago. You were about to describe the new calling you believe you’ve received.”

“Yes. I believe God has called me to bring the story of Jesus to Muslims, not just here in the U.S., but around the world.”

Sylvan leaned forward. “I don’t think I have to tell you that this is likely to be a controversial calling.”

“Maybe so, but I don’t really understand why. Muslims are free to share their beliefs with Christians everywhere in the West. It seems that it’s time for the information to move in both directions. Right now there are countries in the Middle East where handing a Bible to a Muslim can get a person thrown in jail, or worse. No one is landing in jail in the West for handing a copy of the Quran to a Christian, and they shouldn’t be.”

In the green room Elise clapped her hands. “This is amazing. It’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him.”

On the screen Sylvan tapped a pencil on the table. “I don’t pretend to be an expert on the tenets of Islam, but I think Islam takes a different view of proselytizing than Christianity does. Don’t you think we should respect that aspect of their faith?”

Simon narrowed his eyebrows. “I’m not aware of anything in Islam that prohibits discussion and learning. In fact, some of the great civilizations of history, Muslim civilizations, were known for their commitment to education.”

“You’re talking, though, about much more than education, aren’t you, Simon? You’re talking about converting Muslims to Christianity.”

“Yes, and I want that to be perfectly clear. My long-term goal as a minister is to bring people to Jesus. But the first step in doing that is education. That’s all that I’m talking about at this point. I’m calling for a series of televised debates—actually,
debate
is probably not the right word. More like discussions. I’m asking Muslim leaders to discuss with me publicly, in a respectful, professional manner, some of the basic premises of our faiths.”

Sylvan leaned back in his chair. “That seems straightforward enough. But you’re whistling in the wind here, aren’t you? Do you think there is any chance that any Muslim spiritual leader will take you up on this?”