The List (52 page)

“And you live in Georgetown?”

“Yes. I had a hearing scheduled this morning, but it was postponed, and I was available to come see you first thing.”

“But, if you're a Christian like Mama A, I mean Mrs. Flowers, how—”

“How can a lawyer who is a Christian represent guilty people?” Jenkins finished Renny's thought.

“Right.”

“Remind me to show you the Wall of Faith at my office sometime. Then you'll understand. Now, let's get down to business.”

Carol met a sleepy-eyed Anne and Dr. Levy inside the quarantine area. “How is she this morning?”

Anne yawned. “Her fever climbed in the night until spiking at 103. It's down some now, but she's still somewhat delirious.”

“What's causing the fever?”

Dr. Levy glanced at Jo's chart in his hand. “It's not clear, but minor infections that would be unnoticeable to a healthy person are extremely dangerous for Jo. We're giving her the maximum amount of antibiotics in an effort to knock it out of her system, but without any white blood cells to fight infection, we don't have any allies in her body.”

“Are the antibiotics working?”

“We hope so.”

“And if they don't work?”

The doctor closed the folder. “We may lose her.”

30

And they loved not their lives unto the death.

R
EVELATION 12:11, KJV

J
enkins put his legal pad down on the table. “OK. You've told me everything that happened last night except the most important thing.”

“Which is?” Renny looked puzzled.

“Why? Why did you want to break into LaRochette's house? Mrs. Flowers told me you're from a well-to-do Charleston family, and I know you work for a big law firm in Charlotte. That is not the typical profile for a twenty-five-year-old who tries to burglarize a rich man's beach mansion.”

Renny shrugged his shoulders. “Why does it matter? Motive is only important to TV lawyers. The reason I wanted to get inside LaRochette's house is not going to get me off the hook, is it?”

Jenkins nodded. “You're right. But you have told me as much about this disaster as the crew of the
Titanic
knew about the iceberg that sank the ship. If you really want me to help you, I need to know everything.”

Renny had faithfully carried the secret of the List so long it had become automatic to exclude any hint of it in conversation with everyone except Jo. But there was a strength in this huge man that made him feel safe. Renny's attempts at solving the problems created by his involvement with the List had failed miserably. Like many other men who had confessed their hidden secrets within the walls of the jailhouse interview room, Renny decided this was the time for him to come clean. Maybe confession would be good for his soul as well.

“How much time do you have?” he asked.

“Enough. My office knows where I am. They can call the jail, and one of the deputies will let me know if I have an emergency. Go ahead, I'm listening.”

Renny began with an odd question. “Do you know how many levels of hell there were in Dante's
Inferno
?”

“Uh, nine.”

“Well, right now I am at Level Seven, and I don't want to go any lower.”

Renny started at the beginning and took the lawyer down the path that led to the interview room at the GCCC. After a few minutes, Jenkins stopped taking notes and just listened. When Renny told him about Jo's illness, tears filled both their eyes.

He finished his tale of woe and said with relief, “And that's the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I feel better just getting everything out in the open after wrestling with this by myself for so long.”

“Thank you for trusting me,” Jenkins said soberly. “We have three things to do. First, I am going to cancel everything on my calendar for the rest of the day and seek guidance from the Lord on your behalf. The next time I see you, I want to have a strategy that has the counsel of Jesus Christ for your situation. He is our Advocate, and unlike earthly lawyers, has never lost a case for a cooperative client. Second, I want you to give me permission to call Agnes Flowers and enlist her prayers on your behalf. I won't tell her everything, but she needs to know enough to appreciate the level of spiritual warfare involved in this situation. Third, I want you to call your landlady in Charlotte and have her fax me the financial information sheet you obtained after the last meeting at the Rice Planter's Inn.”

“Will they let me make another call from here?”

“Yes. I'll make sure of it. Here's my card. It has all my phone numbers on it.”

“OK.”

“Before I leave, I want us to pray together.”

“Sure.”

The lawyers bowed their heads, and Jenkins began pouring out his soul in prayer. Renny was stunned. For passion and persistence, he had never heard anything like it. It reminded him of the finals of a high school wrestling tournament in which two evenly matched grapplers refuse to yield an inch of territory to the opponent. Jenkins approached God with a determined intensity and an unwillingness to accept no for an answer. At one point, chills ran down Renny's spine, and he opened his eyes to see if angels or some other form of heavenly creatures had come into the room. A. L. quoted passages from the Scriptures with fire and conviction. He beat his fist against the table in opposition to the works of Satan. He beseeched heaven for the manifestation of the will of God for Renny. He invoked the authority of the One who conquered the grave for Jo's deliverance from death. He bound, he loosed, he cried, he sweat, and when he finished by declaring, “In the name of Jesus of Nazareth, the strong Son of God, amen,” Renny, for the first time since he started his downward spiral, knew there was a reality to the word
hope.

In Charlotte, Daisy Stokes had not eaten, slept, or taken a sip of water since Renny's call the night before. Although in good health for a woman of her age, she feared her body could not endure the strain caused by the intensity of the prayer burden for the two young people. Hour after hour passed in the prayer closet. Dawn arrived, but the burden did not lift. Then, suddenly, peace came.

“What is this, Lord? Is it victory?”

“No,”
came the steady reply to her heart.
“ It is the eye of the storm.”

“What do I need to do? My strength is almost gone.”

“You can choose to be poured out.”

Opening her Bible, she read the words of Paul to Timothy:

For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time has come for my departure. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.

She waited, then lifted her head, and spoke, “If I choose to be poured out, will it bring victory for Renny and Jo?”

“If you choose rightly, you will fulfill my will and have the same epitaph as my servant Paul.”

Her understanding expanded by the intensity of the Holy Spirit's presence, Daisy appreciated in a heightened way the excellency and surpassing glory of fulfilling the Lord's will, regardless of the consequences to her own life. Her decision was easy; she'd already made the hard choices along the path of a long life lived in obedience to Jesus.

“Yes,” she whispered and immediately the whirlwind of opposition to her prayers again swept over her. But now, energized by a new strength, she beat back the darkness with one of the most powerful weapons in a Christian's arsenal: the increasing brilliance of the Lord's manifest presence upon her life.

After Agnes Flowers learned from Mrs. Stokes about Renny's trouble, she went into the kitchen for a drink of water. She was troubled on the surface but she felt a settled resolve deep in her soul, like a soldier going into battle who knew there was no turning back, no chance of a transfer to a safe assignment in the rear, no other option but to go forward and face the enemy. Sitting at the table, she thought about Renny's mother.

“Katharine, your boy's in trouble, but somehow I still don't think the Lord's frettin' and wringin' his hands.”

Stretching and lifting her own hands in the air, she said, “What do you want me to do, Lord? Please show me.”

Nothing came, so she went to bed and soon fell asleep. She dreamed. She saw herself standing on top of a hill covered with green grass. The terrain was rolling and rocky, not flat and sandy like the Low Country. The landscape reminded her of pictures of Scotland. In the distance, she saw men coming toward her. She could not see who they were, but they were walking resolutely in her direction and would soon ascend the hill where she waited. The closer they came, the more impressed she was by the determination in their bearing. When their faces came into focus, she saw a strength and fortitude that caused her knees to tremble. Although they carried no visible weapons, these were warriors trained for battle, and she knew no foe could stand against them. Up they came to where she stood and stopped. One of the warriors stepped forward. Opening his cloak, he pulled out a double-edged sword that was taller than Agnes and laid it at her feet.

“Pick it up,” he commanded.

Agnes looked at the sword and showed the man her hands. “I can't do anythin' with that. It's way too big. I don't even think I belong here.”

“Pick it up.”

Deciding to show him instead of arguing, she leaned over and grasped the handle, easily lifting the sword over her head; it had no weight at all. Swinging it in front of her, the sword disappeared from view, yet somehow she knew it was still in her hand.

“Where did it go?” she asked.

“It is still there. Its purpose is not to fight what is seen, but what is unseen.”

“How could it be so light?”

“You've trained yourself to wield it. The strength to use this sword is not in your flesh; it's in your spirit. You are one of the few on earth who can bend a bow of bronze.”

Agnes fell on her knees before the Captain of the Host.