Whispers in the Wind

by Al Lacy

  Tharyn had tears in her eyes. “Oh, Russell, please go tell Dr. Harris right now!”

  “I will. See you later.”

  Maude Harris and her husband looked at Russell incredulously as they stood in the office and heard the story.

  “This is totally ridiculous,” said the doctor. “That boy is not a killer. Those people who identified him are grossly mistaken.”

  “This whole thing is preposterous!” said Maude.

  Dr. Harris had just finished with his last scheduled patient for the day. As he went quickly to the washstand and soaped up his hands, he said to Maude, “Honey, if any patients come in while I’m gone, schedule them for tomorrow if you can; and if not, tell them I’ll make a house call this evening. Right now, I have an emergency. Dane needs me and I’m going to him.”

  Maude smiled. “Of course, dear. I’ll handle things here. You go to that sweet boy. Our precious Jesus is the Chief Justice and our Supreme Advocate. He can do all things.”

  The doctor dried his hands, hung up the towel, and kissed Maude’s wrinkled cheek. “While Russell and I are going to the jail, please lift that boy to the Throne. I don’t know what all of this means, but I do know that nothing gets to the sheep without getting past the Shepherd first. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  When Dr. Harris and Russell Mims arrived at the jail, they were told that only one person could visit a prisoner at a time. Russell stayed in the waiting area while the doctor was taken by a guard to the visiting room after being searched for any kind of weapon.

  When the guard ushered him in, Dane had already been brought from his cell and was sitting in the adjacent room behind a barred window. His battered face brightened when he saw his friend.

  As Dr. Harris sat down, he said, “I know the whole story. Russell got it out of Officers Thornton and Collins and came to me with it. Russell’s in the waiting room right now. They wouldn’t let both of us come in.” He tipped his face down and eyed the boy over his half-moon spectacles. “What happened to you, son?”

  “I was put in a cell with three older teenage boys. They didn’t like it because I wouldn’t admit to killing that boy, so they beat up on me.”

  “You’ve got iodine on your cut lip, I notice.”

  “Yes, sir. The prison doctor took care of me.”

  Dr. Harris looked him straight in the eye. “Dane, Maude and I both know you’re innocent of this charge. God knows it, too. I see some despair in your eyes, and I understand. But the Lord has a reason for allowing this to happen. His timing is different than ours, but don’t despair. He will take care of you.”

  Dane blinked at the excess moisture in his eyes and nodded.

  Dr. Harris reached through the bars and gripped Dane’s hand. Let’s pray.

  Dane took hold of the doctor’s hand and bowed his head.

  Dr. Harris began to pray, imploring their Saviour to give Dane peace and grace beyond measure in the horrible situation. He told the Lord that he knew Dane was innocent of the killing, but that he also knew He had a reason for allowing this mistaken identity to happen. He asked when Dane was cleared of the crime that God would get the glory.

  When he finished praying, Dr. Harris felt the tension leave the boy’s hands. He looked into Dane’s eyes and saw that God was already blessing him with immeasurable grace.

  Dane formed a smile on his lips. “Thank you, Doctor. I feel better already.”

  “Praise the Lord. Maude and I will be holding you up in prayer all the way through this, son. Don’t you despair. It’ll turn out all right.”

  Dane nodded. “Dr. Harris, would you do me a favor?”

  “Name it.”

  “Would you go to the pharmacy and tell Mr. Clarkson what has happened?”

  “Certainly. I’ll go immediately. He’s not going to believe these ridiculous charges, either.”

  “I hope not. And, Doctor, thank you for not believing them. And please thank Mrs. Harris for her confidence in me too.”

  “I will. You’re no killer, Dane. You’re not only a born-again child of God, but you’re a soul winner. I’ll be back to see you tomorrow.”

  Dane reached through the bars in the window and gripped the doctor’s hand. “I’ll look forward to it. Thanks, again, for believing in me and for coming to see me.”

  When Dr. Harris was gone, one of the guards stepped into the room. “Okay, kid. Let’s go.”

  Upon entering his cell, Dane heard the barred door clank shut behind him as he headed for his bunk. The guard’s footsteps faded away. He sat down on the bunk, bowed his head and asked the Lord to bless the Harrises, and to bless Russell for taking the story to them. He prayed earnestly, asking the Lord to get him out of the jail quickly and to take care of Tharyn and the others in his colony.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Shortly after noon the next day, Dane Weston was sitting on his bunk in the cell, reading his Bible, which Dr. Lee Harris had brought him early that morning. He could hear the low rumble of the prisoners talking as usual in their cells.

  His head came up when he heard the handle clank on the big steel door a short distance down the corridor. He could see the door from his bunk. The door swung open, and his heart thumped in his chest when he saw Tharyn Myers enter the cell block, sided by a big burly guard. The guard picked up a wooden chair that stood against the wall next to the door.

  Dane closed the Bible, laid it on his pillow, and hurried to the cell door, gripping the bars as he watched Tharyn coming toward him. The huge guard dwarfed the little redhead, and Dane could tell she was a bit intimidated by him.

  Tharyn’s own heart was pounding her rib cage when the guard led her into the corridor, and it pounded harder when she saw Dane standing at his cell door, gripping the bars. In her heart, she was determined to put on a brave face and be a help to this young man who had done so much for her.

  As they drew up to the cell, the guard said, “Somebody here to see you, kid. You’ve got ten minutes.” As he spoke, he placed the chair on the floor in front of the cell door. Then he walked away.

  Dane and Tharyn stood gazing into each other’s eyes, then he reached through the bars, arms open.

  As she moved into his arms, pressing against the bars, he said, “I’m so glad to see you, little sis.”

  Other prisoners were looking on curiously as Tharyn patted his cheek. “I’m so sorry that this horrible thing has happened.”

  Dane released her, then took hold of her hand. “Thank you for coming. You didn’t walk all the way over here alone, did you?”

  “No. Russell came with me. He’s down in the waiting room by the office. He didn’t want me on the streets by myself.”

  “Bless him. I don’t want you on those streets alone, either.” He let go of her hand. “Please sit down.”

  As Tharyn eased onto the chair, Dane said, “I’m surprised they let you come here into the cell block.”

  “Well, the visiting room for this section of the jail is full right now. It took some tall talking, but I explained to the chief guard in the office that Russell and I are street orphans and need to get back to our corner to beg for money. I told him you were my adopted brother, and that it was very important that I see you. This got to him, so he called for that guard and told him to bring me right to your cell.” She flashed Dane a smile.

  He shook his head at her audacity. “You’re quite the little sister, Tharyn. Oh, it’s so good to see you!”

  She took a shaky breath. “It’s good to see you, too. I—” She put a hand to her mouth and her brow furrowed.

  “What?”

  “This awful place. I feel so bad for you. Its—so dingy. It’s worse than the alley. At least there we can see the sky and breathe fresh air.”

  Dane nodded grimly. “Yeah.”

  Tharyn’s eyes strayed past Dane to the bunk where his Bible lay on the pillow. “I see Dr. Harris got here early, like he had planned.”

  Dane turned his head and followed her line of sight. “Oh. My Bible.
Dr. Harris said he asked Russell to give it to him when he was at the alley checking on all of you this morning. He figured since the church gave each of you a Bible the day you were baptized, I should have mine here in the cell with me. I’m glad he brought it. I was planning to ask him when he came to see me today, if he would bring it next time he comes.”

  “Dr. Harris said when he was here this morning, he was going to try to find out when your trial will be.”

  Dane shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “I was told by the officer who booked me for the crime that the trial is set for next Tuesday. With all the emotion that I was experiencing yesterday, I completely forgot to tell Dr. Harris. He stopped by the office before he came to see me this morning and asked about it. They told him it was set for ten o’clock next Tuesday morning.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Dr. Harris said he wished he had the money to hire a good lawyer to defend me. But he just doesn’t have it. He said the court is going to appoint a lawyer for me.”

  She nodded. “Well, I can tell you right now that the whole colony is coming to the trial. We all agreed. We’ll walk all the way from the alley together.”

  Tharyn could tell by the look in Dane’s eyes that this pleased him.

  “This means more to me than I can ever say, Tharyn. I sure wish somebody could bring all of you in a carriage or a wagon, though.”

  “We’ll be fine. And we don’t mind walking. We just want to be here for you. Dr. Harris told us he was going to go by the parsonage after leaving the alley and tell Pastor Wheeler about you being in jail.”

  “He did. Pastor Wheeler was here to see me a couple of hours ago.”

  “I’m sure he was a help to you.”

  “Yes. I asked him why God would let this awful thing happen to me. He read a verse to me from the book of Romans. It was a real help.”

  “What does it say?”

  “I’ll show it to you.”

  Russell hurried to the bunk and picked up the Bible. While flipping pages, he said, “It’s in Romans 8:28.” He extended it to her through the bars. “Read it out loud.”

  Tharyn took the Bible, found the verse, and put her thumb next to it. “‘And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.’”

  “That’s talking about saved people, Tharyn. It’s talking about us.”

  She nodded, her eyes still fixed on the page.

  “Pastor Wheeler told me that based on this verse, God has a purpose for this happening to me. He said when God is ready for me to be cleared of the crime and released from this place, He will see that it is done. And when it’s all over, it will have worked out for my good.”

  Still looking at it, Tharyn said, “Sure enough. That’s what it says. It doesn’t say that all things that happen to us are good, but all things will work together for our good.”

  Dane grinned. “That is exactly how Pastor Wheeler put it.”

  At that instant, they heard heavy footsteps, and looked up to see the guard. “Time’s up. Let’s go, little lady.”

  Tharyn stood up, handed Dane the Bible, and embraced him through the bars. “See you next Tuesday, big brother.”

  “Sure enough,” said Dane, and pressing his face to the bars, kissed her forehead. “That will have to do until I get out and am back in the alley to kiss my little sister good night.”

  She struggled to keep her composure. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  The guard picked up the chair.

  Tharyn smiled at Dane, then followed the guard down the corridor with prisoners in their cells looking on. She continued her brave front until she reached the big steel door and turned for one last look at Dane.

  The guard set the chair down, jerked on the door handle, and pulled it open.

  Tharyn’s heart seemed to turn over inside her chest, and unbidden tears dimmed her blue eyes. She waved to Dane, then squared her shoulders and moved through the door, her back straight but her heart aching.

  Dane stood there for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the last spot where he saw her, then turned and sat back down on the bunk. He opened his Bible and read Romans 8:28 again. And again.

  “Lord,” he whispered, “I’m such a young Christian. I really need You to help me to hold onto this. I know it’s true because it’s Your Word. Please help me not to have doubts.”

  The handle of the door clanked again and it swung open. Dane looked that direction, and saw the guard enter the corridor with a man in a business suit. He looked back at his Bible and read the verse again. He heard the footsteps of the two men coming his direction and looked up again.

  The guard said, “Someone else to see you, kid. Take all the time you want, Mr. Watson.”

  The guard walked away, and the middle-aged man moved up to the bars, peering between them. “Dane Weston?”

  Dane laid the Bible down, left the bunk, and drew up close to the cell door. “Yes, sir?”

  “My name is George Watson. I’m the attorney the court appointed to represent you at your trial.”

  “Oh. Glad to meet you, sir.”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “I want you to be honest with me, okay?”

  Dane nodded.

  “Tell me the truth about the murder of Benny Jackson.”

  “I did not murder Benny Jackson,” Dane said levelly.

  Watson sighed. “It’ll go a lot better for you if you will admit your guilt.”

  “What guilt? I told you, sir, I did not murder that boy.”

  “The state has three credible witnesses who have identified you as the person they saw stab Benny Jackson. When they testify to this in court, the jury is going to believe them.”

  “The witnesses are mistaken, Mr. Watson. I swear to you, I didn’t do it.”

  “But according to what the police told me, all three witnesses gave them a perfect description of you, even before you were brought in.”

  Dane shook his head. “Not a perfect description, sir. They said the killer was seventeen years old. I’m fifteen.”

  “That’s a minor point. The physical description they gave of the killer was perfect. I talked to Officers Thornton and Collins. They said the instant they heard the three witnesses give the description of the killer, they knew it was you. So they arrested you and took you before the witnesses. All three said you were the one they saw stab Benny Jackson. That’s all the jury will need to convict you. Now, if you will admit it, maybe I can get the judge to go easier on you. Instead of a life sentence, it may only be twenty or twenty-five years.”

  Dane shook his head stubbornly. “Mr. Watson, I am not going to admit to something I didn’t do.”

  Watson sighed. “Okay, kid. Have it your own way.” With that, he wheeled and headed down the corridor.

  Dane went back to the bunk, sat down, and bowed his head, asking God to clear him of the murder charge.

  That Monday night seemed an eternity to Dane as he lay on his hard bunk and stared unseeingly at the bottom of the bunk above him. He had not slept a wink when dawn came and the guards rolled carts along the corridor, handing out breakfast.

  A guard stopped in front of Dane’s cell and placed a tray of food on the floor, sliding it through the six-inch space beneath the door. “Breakfast, kid,” he said, looking through the bars. “Just leave the tray right here after you eat so we can pick it up later.”

  As the guard wheeled the cart away, Dane left the bunk, leaned over, and slid the tray into the cell. One look at the grease floating on top of the thin gruel caused his stomach to wrench. He made a face and shoved it back under the door. “Oh, dear Lord, help me.”

  He went back to the bunk and lay down. His eyes were closed and his arm lay over his forehead an hour later when the guard came to pick up the tray. He heard the guard grumble something about the prisoners being unappreciative of the food as he pushed the cart on down the corridor.

  It was almos
t 9:45 when two guards came to the cell. Dane was sitting up on the bunk, reading his Bible.

  “Time to go to court, kid.”

  They moved into the cell, and one of them handcuffed Dane with his wrists behind his back. His insides were churning, and his steps slow and measured as the guards led him through the huge Hall of Justice building to the courtroom. Still unable to believe the horrible events of the last few days, his spirits were lifted when he set his red-rimmed eyes on all his friends from the alley, and the four adults who sat just behind them. Pastor and Mrs. Alan Wheeler sat between Dr. Lee Harris and Bryce Clarkson. They were all watching him closely, and a reassuring smile was on every face.

  Dane smiled thinly in their direction, then the smile faded as he saw the three witnesses sitting on the front row. His stomach soured at the sight of them. All three were looking at him with accusing eyes.

  The guards led him to a table that faced the judges bench. One of them removed the handcuffs, and the other one shoved him down on a hard wooden chair. Both moved away a few steps, then stood looking at him sternly.

  At that moment, George Watson appeared and sat down beside him. He leaned close and whispered, “If you plead guilty and show remorse for your crime, the judge will go easier on you, especially because of your age. Are you listening to what I am telling you?”

  “I told you I’m innocent, Mr. Watson. I’m not going to plead guilty to a crime I did not commit.”

  There was a stirring among the children of the colony, who had heard Dane’s words.

  Twelve men came in from a side door and walked single file to the jury box. They sat down quietly, and when they were settled, the bailiff said, “All rise.”

  Everyone in the courtroom rose to their feet, including George Watson and his client. As the judge came from a rear door and approached his bench, the bailiff said, “The honorable Judge Hector B. Rigby, presiding.”

  Rigby sat down behind his bench, picked up the gavel, and banged it on the desk. “Court is in session. Please be seated.”