continue to spin out of control, downward.
Lord, give me strength for the rest of the trial. I am your woman! Go before me in power!
She heard a soft knock on her door. It was Sarah Mae. Her eyes were red. Charlene brought her to a chair and sat her down.
“What is it?” Charlene asked.
“Sorry I messed it up,” Sarah Mae said.
“You didn’t mess anything up. You were fine.”
“No I warn’t. I seen your face. Did I make it bad for us?”
Charlene knelt and patted the girl’s knee. “God is in this with us. Do you believe that?”
Sarah Mae nodded. But it was a weak nod. “Mama says we should stop now and make that settle…”
“Settlement?”
“Yeah. Like we almost did.”
“I thought you didn’t want to.”
“I don’t know no more. What if we lose?”
Charlene felt like someone had kicked her. That was, of course, the big question in any trial. You could do everything right, the evidence could be on your side, and still a jury could do the opposite of what you expected.
“No,” Charlene said. “We’re not going to lose. Not with God on our side.”
Sarah Mae looked at her with eyes that wanted to believe it.
“Trust God with me,” Charlene said. “He has called us to this trial.” She could feel tears of passion coming to her eyes. For two years she had lived this case, day in and day out, losing sleep, putting up practically all the money she had in costs.
“You crying, Miss Moore?” Sarah Mae said.
“I’m all right.”
“You sayin’ God’ll do right by us?”
“He does right by those who trust in him.”
“What’s gonna happen tomorrow?” Sarah Mae said, heaving a deep breath.
“The defense will put on its case. Then we’ll have a chance to put on what’s called a rebuttal. I’ll call your mother to the stand for that.”
“Mama’s nervous. Think you should?”
“Yes.”
“I’m still scared.”
“You’re not alone in that, Sarah Mae. Trust me, will you?”
Charlene took Sarah Mae’s hand. It was soft, and so like a little girl’s.
5
It was nearly eight o’clock at night when Dr. Weinstein returned, motioning to Millie and Jack Holden, who sat in the waiting room. Millie moved faster than she had in weeks, ignoring the shooting pains, to get to the doctor.
Dr. Weinstein smiled and said to Millie, “Let’s go in here,” motioning toward the double doors leading to a hallway.
It was ominously quiet, like a morgue. “What is it?” Millie asked. “How is my mother? What’s happening?”
“Justice Hollander,” he said, “your mother is awake.”
Millie couldn’t find a response. Her hand went to her mouth.
“You can see her now,” Dr. Weinstein said.
Without thinking, Millie found herself turning to Jack Holden. He squeezed her arm and smiled. Then they turned and followed Dr. Weinstein to Ethel’s room.
Ethel was on a bed, a tired smile on her face. When she saw Millie she put up both arms. One had a tube taped to it. Ethel seemed completely unconcerned.
Millie wanted to fall into her mother’s arms. She contented herself with a kiss to her cheek. “Mom…,” she whispered.
“Scare you?” Ethel said, her voice thready.
Millie drew back her head. “Yes,” she said. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“No, no,” Ethel said.
“I’m sick with worry.”
Ethel smiled a little then. “Let it roll off your back, like a duck,” she said slowly.
“Sure, Mom.”
“We still have time.”
The words hit Millie with an odd resonance. Where had she heard them before? And then it struck her. The homeless man, just before her accident.
“Yes, Mom, we do,” Millie said.
Ethel motioned to her to lean over close, like she wanted to whisper something. Millie bent over, turning her ear toward her mother’s mouth.
“I’m proud you’re my daughter,” Ethel said.
Millie did not move, warmth from her mother’s cheek filling her, holding her there. To hide her tears, Millie buried her face in the side of Ethel’s pillow.
6
Millie finally allowed Holden to drive her home to Santa Lucia around midnight. Only the promise that he would bring her back in the morning got her out of the hospital.
“Tell me about near-death experiences,” she said, to break the silence. He had talked about them in his sermon, and she had wondered if she would ever let him know about her vision. Now, she thought, she just might.
Holden kept his eyes on the highway. “What do you want to know?”
“Isn’t it just a psychological response? Something the brain does in a certain state? Like a dream?”
“Some people believe that. Most, probably. Within the Christian community there is some skepticism, too.”
“Why?”
“Theological issues. The Bible says it is appointed for a man once to die, and then to face the judgment. Having this so-called near-death experience could be viewed as contradicting Scripture. I don’t see it that way.”
“But people do report seeing Jesus, don’t they? Or some white light?”
“True. But we have to be careful. There are those who claim to have received special revelation from Jesus, or God, and then want to spread that information around. That I do think is a contradiction of Scripture.”
“So do you or don’t you believe in these reports?”
