Breaking Matthew

by Jennifer H. Westall

  Mr. Harris dropped the pencil and paper at the table and disappeared in the back of the store. Roy wrote something down and then slid the paper across the table. “Sure you’re ready for this? Ain’t no turning back once this sets in motion. And it ain’t gonna be pretty neither.”

  My stomach knotted. “You’re not going to actually…kill anyone…are you?”

  Roy sighed. “Look, it’s best for everyone involved if no one gets killed. But things don’t always go as planned. And like I said, for your part, your hands should be pretty clean. So don’t you worry none. The boys and I are used to all this.”

  My uneasiness grew, and I wondered what Ruby would say to Roy’s plan. But who was I kidding? I knew exactly what she’d say. She’d tell me to trust God. She’d tell me to believe that if I waited around and just prayed hard enough, somehow things would work out for the good. But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t just wait. And I was pretty sure God wasn’t listening, anyway.

  “Mr. Harris,” I said. “Is there any more of that moonshine left?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ruby

  The next morning when Matthew, Mother, and Uncle Asa came in to see me, I could tell something was wrong right away. All three looked as gray as death, especially Matthew. He almost looked sick. Sheriff Peterson walked ahead of them, looking grim as well. He nodded to me and stuck his key in the lock.

  “We’re heading to Wetumpka in a little while, Miss Ruby. Everything’s set to go. You all take some time to visit. We’ll come in and get you in about thirty minutes.”

  Mother, Asa, and Matthew filed past him. The sheriff didn’t even bother closing the door. Matthew turned to him and asked, “How far of a drive is it down to Wetumpka?”

  The sheriff looked at the ceiling and furrowed his brow. “Well, usually takes a good three hours just to get to Montgomery. Then another half hour or so to get to Wetumpka.” He took a look over at me. “It’ll be a long day for sure.”

  Matthew shifted his weight and crossed his arms over his chest. Then he shifted again. “You taking ’31 all the way down?”

  “I reckon it’s the quickest way.”

  “Would you allow me to follow? I’d feel better knowing she arrived safely.”

  This seemed to unsettle Sheriff Peterson. He eyed Matthew with a hint of suspicion. “I can’t tell you where you can and can’t drive, but I’ll say this. I’d be mighty uncomfortable with you following behind us. It ain’t that I don’t trust ya or nothin’ but I think it would be best if you waited and visited Ruby in a few days once she’s settled in. You can trust that Deputy Frost and I will get her there in one piece.”

  Matthew ran his hand through his hair and shifted again. “All right. Thanks, Sheriff.”

  Sheriff Peterson made his way out the door, and Mother was the first to come to me. She wrapped her arms around me and stroked my back as I tried to hold myself together.

  “We’ll be down to see you in two days,” she said. “Mr. Oliver’s coming too, and we’ll get to work on your appeal.”

  She let me go, and we took a seat on my cot. Matthew remained near the cell door, his arms still folded over his chest. “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, moving closer to us. “I just haven’t wrapped my head around all this yet. Just don’t make any sense, is all.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I talked to Father last night. I tried to get him to make this right. But he says he can’t. Says it’s outta his hands now. I should’ve done something sooner, said something when he first made the threats. I just couldn’t believe…”

  “It’s all right,” I said. “Thank you for trying.”

  He paced the floor next to Mother and me. Sweat had dampened the hair around his temples. Asa must’ve noticed his nervousness too. He shot a glance at me before calling on Matthew to have a seat.

  “I can’t,” Matthew said. “I can’t sit still right now. This shouldn’t be happening.”

  “I know this is hard,” Asa said. “But Scripture tells us God won’t give us more’n we can bear. He knows our weakness, and He wants us to rely on Him for our strength.”

  Unfolding his arms, Matthew rubbed his temples. “What if He actually wants us to do something besides sit around and wait for Ruby to die?”

  “Matthew!” Mother said, covering her mouth with her hand.

  He cringed. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Graves. I’m sorry, Ruby. This is making me crazy inside.”

  Asa went over to the little table beside my cot and took Daddy’s Bible in his hands. “Why don’t we read some Scripture together? I’m sure we can find some comfort in God’s words.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” I said.

  Mother nodded. Her hands shook a little as she reached for mine. “What would you like to hear, honey?”

  “I want a miracle,” I said. “When Jesus walks on the water.” Asa gave me a warm smile as he sat down and began flipping through the pages. “Read it from Matthew,” I said, glancing over at my Matthew. “That’s my favorite.”

  Asa turned to it and began reading:

  “And straightway Jesus constrained his disciples to get into a ship, and to go before him unto the other side, while he sent the multitudes away. And when he had sent the multitudes away, he went up into a mountain apart to pray: and when the evening was come, he was there alone. But the ship was now in the midst of the sea, tossed with waves: for the wind was contrary. And in the fourth watch of the night Jesus went unto them, walking on the sea. And when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were troubled, saying, It is a spirit; and they cried out for fear.

  “But straightway Jesus spake unto them, saying, Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid. And Peter answered him and said, Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water. And he said, Come. And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus. But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me.

  “And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt? And when they were come into the ship, the wind ceased.”

  “Why is that your favorite?” Matthew asked. He’d finally stopped pacing and had been listening to Asa intently.

  “Because it’s about me,” I said. “There have been many times when I was terrified of the storm I was in at the moment, but Jesus called me out of the boat. It doesn’t make any sense to step out onto crashing waves in the midst of a storm. Reason tells me to stay in the boat where I’m safe. But Jesus looks at me and says, ‘Come.’ So I go to Him. It’s all I know to do.”

  Matthew leaned his back against the bars and slid down until he was seated on the floor. It was a while until he spoke. “I don’t know how you do it. Does your faith never waiver? Do you ever doubt anything?”

  “Of course I do! Every day. I’m just like Peter. I step out of the boat and get swamped by fear and doubt. I start to sink. But I call out to my Savior, and He rescues me. That’s how I can face this. My Savior loves me.”

  Matthew’s tortured gaze met mine. “Then how can He let this happen, Ruby? What good does it do for anyone? Your sacrifice will go to the grave with you, and then what difference will you have made? No one will ever know what you’ve done, except me. I’ll get to live with it.”

  A wave of understanding passed over me. I stood and walked over to him, kneeling in front of him. “Whatever you’re planning…don’t do it.”

  His eyes widened. “Wh-what do you mean?”

  “I don’t know exactly. I just know. I see it all around you. The fear. The doubt. There’s darkness all over you.”

  “I’m afraid for you.”

  “No, you’re afraid for yourself. Of a life without me.”

  “You said you were afraid too.”

  I took his hands in mine. “Yes, but I dealt with mine. I prayed for courage. Yours is the kind of fear that can leave you broken and lost
. Don’t do it. Whatever’s going on in your head…just pray…ask for wisdom and courage. Please. Don’t lose your faith.”

  Matthew

  Don’t lose my faith. How many times had she said that to me now? Seemed like she was more afraid of that than losing her own life. Looking at her there as she knelt in front of me, I could almost grasp ahold of what she was saying. Maybe we were in a boat, in the middle of a storm, in the middle of a great sea. And maybe Jesus was calling on us to step out of the boat. But what I couldn’t catch onto was: What was I supposed to do? Was it exercising my faith to sit back and wait for something to happen? Or was there greater faith in taking action?

  She looked on me with so much peace in her eyes. That same way she’d looked on me all those years ago, the night God had healed me. Ruby had this presence with her that I couldn’t understand, like a bubble of something—love, grace, and fire all wrapped into one—that made me love her all the more, and yet kept her separate from me also. I didn’t deserve someone I couldn’t begin to understand. But I couldn’t imagine living one day without her, either. Did that make me selfish? Was I to be judged for considering my own needs also?

  “Miss Ruby, it’s time,” Sheriff Peterson said from the door of her cell.

  I jumped to my feet, shaken out of my reverie. Ruby and I stood, and she took my hand. “All right,” she said to the sheriff, “I’m ready.” Then she turned and gazed up at me. “Don’t do anything out of fear. If there’s no peace, then wait for God.”

  I wrapped my arms around her, wishing I could slow down time until I could figure out what to do. “I love you,” I whispered.

  Then I released her, and she hugged her mother and Asa one last time. We followed her and Sheriff Peterson into the lobby where John Frost was waiting.

  “We’ll need you folks to step out now,” he said. “I’ll get all the information from Wetumpka for ya, and pass it on so you can go visit as soon as you’d like.”

  He looked at us with expectant eyes, while we all looked around at each other like we couldn’t comprehend what was happening. Finally Asa spoke up. “All right then. Let’s go.” He wrapped his arm around Mrs. Graves and ushered her out the door into the parking lot. I followed behind, still weighing my options. I took one last glance over my shoulder at Ruby before I went out the door. She met my gaze and held it until the door closed between us.

  As soon as I couldn’t see her anymore, my heart started to race. I had to decide, right then, what I was going to do. If I did nothing, and Ruby went to Wetumpka, there was still a chance her appeal might work, and she’d be released. But how long would that take? And what if it didn’t work? I could lose her forever. If I waited, and trusted the system to work, I could miss the best chance possible for saving her.

  If there’s no peace…

  There was no peace with either option. No peace within my own heart. I only knew that living one day without Ruby would be the most awful existence I could imagine. I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t hope and pray for something that might never happen. Wasn’t that exactly what I’d done all this time? Hadn’t I hoped and prayed God would intervene? He hadn’t shown up.

  I can’t wait.

  As Asa helped Mrs. Graves into his truck, I ran past them towards the end of the courthouse, turned the corner, and headed across the street to the café. When I pushed open the front door, the people at the nearby tables stopped mid-conversation and stared at me. I reckon I was panting and seemed a bit crazed. I straightened myself up and moved to the counter on my right.

  A gray-haired woman eyed me as I approached. “Can I help you, young man?” she asked.

  “May I use your telephone?”

  “Ain’t got one. You might try the office next door. Think they got one last year.”

  I thanked her and hurried out the door. Looking to my left, I saw a small clothing store and a law office. I decided to try the law office. Maybe if they overheard something, they’d be less likely to repeat it.

  I pulled open the door and went to the first desk I spotted. A young man in a suit looked up at me in alarm as I rushed toward him. “Is there a telephone I can use? It’s an emergency.”

  “Um, sure.” He pointed to the black box on the wall behind me.

  I thanked him and picked up the receiver. I took a quick look at my pocket watch. It was just after ten. A female voice came on the line asking for my connection. I pulled the piece of paper that Roy had given me the night before out of my pocket and repeated the numbers.

  “Just one moment,” said the voice.

  I glanced out of the front windows and saw the sheriff’s car pull out of the courthouse parking lot and onto the main road heading south toward Hanceville.

  “Hello,” an unfamiliar voice rasped on the other end.

  I tried to speak, but it felt like I had cotton in my mouth.

  “Hello?” said the voice again.

  “Yes, hello. This is…um…Henry Graves calling for Tipsy. I’m just leaving now, so I should be there ’round ten-forty or so. I’ll bring a friend with me, so there’ll be two of us.”

  “All right then.” There was no wavering, just an acknowledgement of my coded message. “We’ll make two places at the table for ya.”

  “I’m running a bit behind,” I said, indicating the signal that the sheriff hadn’t allowed me to follow. “Gimme a few minutes.”

  “All right then. See you soon.”

  And I hung up the receiver. I thanked the man behind the desk and ran out the door, across the street and back to my car. When I climbed inside, I cranked it and rested my hands on the wheel. Lord, I pray I didn’t just make a huge mistake. But there’s no turning back now. Please keep Ruby safe.

  I drove out of the parking lot and turned onto ’31, heading south toward Hanceville. I had just over thirty minutes of my life as Matthew Doyle left.

  Ruby

  At first, I kept my eyes closed and prayed as we traveled along Highway 31. I couldn’t look at Hanceville, even though some part of me wanted to. I reckon some folks might want a last look at their home if they were in my position, but I didn’t. I already knew every tree along every road, knew the “S” would be missing on the sign at Ashwander’s produce store, knew that old man Tucker would be in front of the gas station, winning at checkers. All I wanted was to feel God’s presence.

  So I opened my heart to him and poured out my fears of the future, my longing to be free, my heartache at seeing Matthew’s faith so shaken. I prayed my Mother would stay strong, and I thanked God for bringing Asa back into her life. It was such a comfort to know she wouldn’t be alone.

  I did my best to stay positive, to avoid questioning why this was happening, or asking for God to take away the lonely ache in my chest. I wanted to face my future with the same courage the apostles had when they were thrown in prison for their faith. Maybe God would give me the opportunity to tell others about Him while I was in there. But I also thought of John the Baptist, and I wondered if he had a moment of weakness as he faced his execution. Did he wonder if God had abandoned him?

  I thought about what Matthew had said, about how no one would ever know what I’d done, and that it wouldn’t change anything. I prayed he was wrong. I prayed that somehow my tiny, brief existence would be like a pebble tossed in a pond. I prayed that small example might eventually ripple out toward others, and someday people wouldn’t look at skin color as a way of measuring a person. Maybe someday we’d figure out how to see into a person’s heart without even noticing the pigment in their skin.

  Rain was beginning to tap insistently on the windows, the noise disturbing my reverie and making me feel unsettled. I opened my eyes to discover we were well past Hanceville, driving past muddy brown fields, broken up occasionally by patches of woods with only a smattering of green pine trees in them. The dark cloud overhead seemed a perfect companion for my trip. Soon, I saw a sign ahead for the little town of Blount Springs, and I realized it was the first time in my life I’d been that far away
from home. Seemed sad really. Here I was about to leave Cullman County, after dreaming about getting out of there for so long, and it was in the back of a sheriff’s car headed for the state penitentiary.

  In the seat ahead of me, I heard Sheriff Peterson ask John, “You see that?”

  “Sure do,” John said.

  I slid to the middle of the bench I was sitting on so I could see too. Up ahead of us, just in the bend of a turn, a car had run off the road and crashed headlong into a tree. Steam was shooting out of the engine, and a man’s body was lying in the ditch a few yards away from the open passenger door.

  Sheriff Peterson slowed down. “I reckon we ought to check on ’em.”

  Another man stumbled out into the road from in front of the car, waving his arms for help. Our car came to a stop about thirty feet behind the wreck. The stumbling man fell to his knees. He seemed familiar somehow, but it was hard to see through the rain, which was heavier now, and beginning to fall in sheets.

  “I can help,” I said. “I’ve been trained to take care of injured folks.”

  “You stay right where you are,” Sheriff Peterson said. “Something about all this don’t feel right.” He opened his car door and stood behind it. “Sir,” he called to the man in the middle of the road. “Sir! Are you all right? What’s happened here?”

  The man in the road moaned loudly, lifting his head. Beneath the brim of his hat, I saw my Uncle Roy’s face, and my heart jumped into my throat. “I…I lost control,” he said. “Hit the tree there. Can you help my friend? I think he’s hurt.”

  Sheriff Peterson glanced at John. “Get Jefferson County on the radio and get some help out here.”

  “We ain’t crossed into Jefferson County yet,” John said. “Still Blount.”

  Sheriff Peterson swore under his breath. “Get Blount then. It’ll take ’em five years to get here, but ring ’em up anyhow.”

  “Yes, sir.” John reached for a large round speaker that looked like a huge sucker. He twisted some knobs until it hissed and called Blount Sheriff’s department, explaining the situation and our location to a crackly voice on the other end. I kept my eyes on Roy, wondering how in the world I was to keep this situation from turning bad. My initial concern for injured strangers had been replaced by a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that things weren’t as they seemed.