A Time to Love

by Al Lacy

  “I’m sure he is,” Linda said. “All right, sir. Please send this wire for me: ‘Received your wire. Am excited for you. Will wait in Boston until I hear from you again.’”

  13

  HAMAN WARNER DROVE AWAY from the Western Union office in Stockton, happily shaking the telegram he held. “Yes! Things couldn’t have worked out any better than this! Linda, honey, just wait’ll you meet your darling ‘Blake’!”

  That evening, Haman sat at the desk in the Barrett library, reading Linda’s letters over again and letting his eyes devour her beauty as he kept glancing at her photograph.

  Grinning, he said, “I’ll go along with this Christianity stuff for a while, to keep your favor, but in time I’ll turn you from it. I’ll keep you so busy doing fun things you won’t want to go to church. I’ll do it ever so slowly, but ever so surely. You wait and see. The day will come when you’ll wonder why you ever embraced that ‘Jesus Christ stuff’ in the first place.”

  At the Ukiah State Prison, Blake Barrett found Larry Huffman in a state of confusion on spiritual matters. He dealt with him about salvation, hoping to lead him to the Lord so he would die on the gallows a saved man. Though Larry would say he believed the Bible was the Word of God, he still threw up a wall between himself and Blake, unwilling to listen to what Blake was trying to show him from the Word.

  Each day when Blake returned to the cell, weary from working on the chain gang, he pressed the gospel to Larry’s heart, but Larry would only listen a little while, then turn the subject to something else.

  On the evening before Larry was to be executed, he sat on his cot, holding his head in his hands.

  Blake’s heart was heavy for him. He had prayed continuously that the Lord would convict Larry so powerfully that he would come to Jesus. Looking at him by the lantern light in the cell, Blake said, “Larry, you’ve listened to me these past six nights, but you really haven’t listened. You’re going into eternity tomorrow morning at sunrise. I’ve shown you in God’s Word that unless you turn to Jesus in repentance of your sin and ask Him to save you, when you hit the bottom of that rope, you will keep on going right down—all the way to hell.”

  Larry looked at Blake through misty eyes and said, “I haven’t been honest with you, Blake.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You asked me on the first night if I believed the Bible is the Word of God. I told you I had no doubt that it was. I should have said that I think it might be, but again, it might not be.”

  “Larry, you told me that you know the Bible says there’s a burning hell out there for murderers like Melvin Packman and Larry Huffman. That’s what you said, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And what was my response?”

  Huffman thought on it a moment. “You said: ‘Yes, and for all other kinds of sinners who die in their sins.’”

  “Right. I said that because it sounded like you thought murderers ought to go to hell, but people guilty of lesser sins shouldn’t have to. Is that what you meant?”

  Larry’s hands were trembling. “I … I guess so.”

  “You guess so?”

  “Blake, I’m not sure about anything right now. I’m not sure there’s a hell or a heaven.”

  Blake knew if he was going to reach the condemned man, it had to be tonight. He could pull no punches. “Larry, what you just said about not being sure of anything right now.

  “Yes?”

  “That’s not true. You’re sure of one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re going to die tomorrow morning at sunrise.”

  Blake’s words were like hammers, striking hard with reality. Larry bent his head low and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Well, aren’t you?” Blake pressed.

  Without looking up, the condemned murderer said, “Yes.”

  “So where are you going when you take that plunge?”

  “I don’t know if I’m going anywhere.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Larry chewed on his lower lip for a moment. “I told you I haven’t been honest with you.”

  “Okay. Be honest now.”

  “My parents taught me from the time I was a little boy that humans are only a higher form of animal. That when we die, like the lower forms, we simply go out of existence. They said there is no punishment for sins. There is no hell. There is no heaven. There is no afterlife, and there is no holy God to face in judgment.”

  “Wait a minute,” Blake said, praying in his heart the Lord would help him say the right thing. “You said your parents taught you there is no punishment for sins.”

  “They did.”

  “You don’t believe that.”

  Larry raised his eyebrows. “How can you be so sure?”

  “What about Melvin Packman? He sinned when he murdered your mother, didn’t he?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And didn’t you tell me you went after him to exact your own justice because the law didn’t punish him for what he did?”

  Huffman looked at Blake, wide-eyed. “Uh … yes.”

  “So you really do believe there should be punishment for sin.”

  “I guess you’d say I do. I went after Packman and put punishment where it belonged.”

  “Then how about the righteous God of heaven who created us? What’s so hard about believing that God punishes sin just like you did?”

  “If there is a God.”

  “You know there is.”

  “What makes you think so?”

  “Because God says you know He exists.”

  “Aw, c’mon.”

  “Romans 1:19 says of the whole human race, ‘That which may be known of God is manifest in them; for God hath shewed it unto them.’ God has shown every man that He exists—even you. We’re being honest here, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then tell me you’re an atheist. Tell me there is no God.”

  Huffman’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t tell you that. You’re right. I know God exists.”

  “Of course you do. Now, again, are you afraid to die?”

  The condemned man’s countenance seemed to sag. “Yes.”

  “But why should you be if when you die you’re simply going out of existence?”

  Tears filled Larry’s eyes. “I’m not going out of existence. I’m going to hell.”

  “Because you murdered Melvin Packman?”

  “No. Because I’ve refused to let Jesus save me.”

  “Murderers and all other kinds of sinners can be forgiven for their sins if they will repent, turn to Jesus, and believe He will do all the saving all by Himself … and if they will call on Him. Remember? ‘For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.’”

  “Would … would you go over those verses you showed me last night?”

  Blake turned to Romans 6:23. “Here, Larry, read it to me.”

  ‘“For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.’”

  “Remember I pointed out that since eternal life is a gift, it can’t be earned by good deeds and religious rites.”

  “Yes.”

  “And I also pointed out that you can’t have eternal life unless you receive Jesus into your heart and your sins are washed away in His precious blood. John 1:12 says, ‘As many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name.’

  “If you are going to go to heaven tomorrow morning, you must acknowledge to God that you are a hell-deserving sinner, then repent of your sin and believe that Jesus died for you on the cross and shed His blood for you … and that He raised Himself out of the grave so He could save you. Call on Him in faith, believing that He will save you by His grace, and He will do it.”

  As Larry Huffman’s eyes filmed with tears, Blake could tell the Holy Spirit was doing His work on the condemned man.

  Blake said, “You 11 hang at sunrise in the morning,
Larry. You have only a few hours to live. You will either receive Jesus tonight or reject Him. If you don’t receive Him, you do reject Him. Reject Him, and you will die without Him.”

  Suddenly Larry broke into sobs and said, “I’m not going to reject Jesus any longer, Blake! He died for me so I could be saved from hell and the wrath of God. Will you help me? I want to be saved right now!”

  With Blake’s guidance, Larry Huffman wept his way to Jesus Christ and received Him in repentance of his sin. His relief was so great that he continued to weep for some time.

  Guard Anthony Tubac appeared at the cell door. “What’s the matter with Huffman, Barrett?”

  “Nothing’s the matter,” Blake replied. “What just happened to him is the best thing that could ever happen to him.”

  Larry looked up at the guard and said unashamedly, “I just opened my heart to Jesus. He saved my soul and washed my sins away in His blood. He forgave me of all my sins—even the murder I committed. When they hang me in the morning, I’m going to heaven!”

  Tubac laughed, and in a scoffing tone, said, “I’ve seen this before. Convicts do this sort of thing a lot when preachers come around. Just another case of jailhouse religion, looks to me. Even without a preacher.”

  Larry wiped tears and said, “I can’t speak for the other men, Mr. Tubac, but you’re wrong about me. I didn’t get religion just now. I received salvation. Salvation is a person, not a religion. That person is the Lord Jesus Christ. I can die now without fear.”

  Tubac’s features pinched with sudden emotion. He’d never seen a man who was condemned to hang with the kind of peace he saw on Larry Huffman’s face.

  “You really mean that, don’t you?” said Tubac.

  “Yes, I do. I don’t even understand it, but I have no fear of death.”

  “You can’t understand it, Larry,” Blake said, “because it’s the peace of God. God’s own peace, that He gives His children when they need it.

  “All I can tell you is that it’s real,” said Larry.

  Anthony Tubac scratched his head and walked away, mumbling to himself.

  Later that night, when the lights were out in the cell block, Blake sat beside Larry on his cot and whispered, “Do you think you can sleep?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s not because I’m afraid of dying in the morning, but still, I’m sort of tensed up.”

  “It’s only natural. I’d like to pray with you.”

  Keeping his voice to a whisper, Blake put his arm around Larry’s shoulders and asked the Lord to continue to give Larry peace. He thanked the Lord for the amazing maturity Larry was showing for having only been saved a couple of hours, and he thanked God for allowing him the privilege of leading Larry to Jesus.

  Both men returned to their cots. In a little while, Blake heard Larry’s soft, even breathing, which told him his cell mate was asleep.

  Dawn was about to break on the eastern horizon when Blake heard a steel door open at one end of the cell block. He sat up and saw the glow of a lantern in the corridor. Footsteps echoed off the cold rock walls, and presently Anthony Tubac appeared, carrying a food tray in one hand and a lantern in the other. Blake met him at the bars and said softly, “He’s sleeping.”

  Tubac shook his head in amazement. “I have his breakfast,” he whispered. “He’s supposed to get it if he wants it. Would you wake him for me?” As he spoke, Tubac set the lantern on the floor next to the barred door.

  Blake gently shook Larry and told him Tubac was there with his breakfast.

  Larry sat up, rubbed his eyes, then looked toward the guard. In a low tone, he said, “I really don’t want any breakfast, Mr. Tubac.”

  “Most of ’em don’t. I can imagine it would be pretty hard to eat, knowing you’re about to face the noose.”

  “It’s not that,” said Huffman. “It’s just that in a little while, I’ll be having breakfast with my Lord Jesus at the heavenly table. Earthly food means nothing to me now.”

  Tubac nodded slowly. “All right. Now, ordinarily the prison chaplain accompanies the condemned man to the gallows, but Chaplain Worthington is home ill.”

  “That’s all right,” said Huffman. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Mr. Tubac,” Blake said, “I’d like to read some Scriptures to Larry before … before they come for him. Is it all right if I light our lantern in here? I know its against the rules, but—”

  “Not a problem. Go ahead and light it. I’m really at a loss for words, Huffman, but you amaze me. I’ve never seen a man so calm who was about to go to the gallows.”

  “It’s Jesus in my heart, Mr. Tubac. You need to open your heart to Him, too.”

  Tubac gave him a weak smile and said, “I’ll be back shortly.”

  Blake read several passages of Scripture to his new friend as dawn spread its gray glow on the eastern sky. When the sky turned orange, the steel door at the end of the cell block rattled, and footsteps were heard again. There was a rumble of low voices among the other inmates. They all knew this was Larry Huffman’s day to die.

  Anthony Tubac and another guard turned the key and swung open the cell door. “Okay, Huffman,” Tubac said. “It’s time.”

  Tears coursed down Larry’s cheeks as he embraced Blake in manly fashion and said, “Thank you, my friend, for caring about my hell-bound soul, and for leading me to the Lord. If you hadn’t, I would now be on my way to hell.”

  “Larry, if Jesus hadn’t saved me many years ago, I wouldn’t have cared about your soul. The praise goes to Him.”

  “Blake … I’ll meet you in heaven.”

  Blake swallowed the hot lump in his throat. “Yes, my brother, I’ll meet you in heaven.”

  He pressed his face to the bars and watched as Larry and the two guards walked away. The other inmates looked on in silence while the condemned man was escorted out of the cell block. When the door clanked shut, Blake sat down on his cot and prayed.

  “Thank You, Lord, for allowing me the privilege of leading Larry to You.”

  Suddenly the truth of the whole matter flashed into his mind: If I hadn’t been put in this prison, Larry would have died lost and gone to hell!

  More tears flooded his eyes as he said, “Oh, dear Lord! If for no other reason … seeing Larry saved is worth being convicted of a crime I didn’t commit and being sent here as an innocent man! I thank You that Romans 8:28 always holds true, even when we mortal Christians can’t see how it’s going to prove itself in our lives.”

  Blake’s mind then went to Linda. He was expecting to hear from her any day now. He whispered, “Lord, I don’t know how Romans 8:28 is going to prove itself true in Linda’s life over this unfair prison sentence of mine, but I know it will. I have no idea how she reacted when she received Haman’s wire. Please help her. Help us both.”

  Some forty minutes after Larry Huffman had been taken away, the breakfast bell started ringing in the mess hall. Both steel doors at the ends of the cell block rattled, and several guards moved along the cells, unlocking doors, and saying, “Breakfast time! Step lively now!”

  Blake rose to his feet as his door was unlocked. He was in the line when Anthony Tubac drew up and said to the other guards, “I need to talk to Barrett a minute. I’ll bring him to the mess hall personally.”

  Tubac took Blake by the arm and guided him back to his cell. “Just wanted to tell you how the hanging went.”

  Blake waited, eyes fixed on Tubac’s face.

  “Huffman went to his death with a smile, Barrett. They always give the condemned man the choice whether or not to have a hood dropped over his face before the noose is placed around his neck. Well, your friend refused the hood. I’m telling you, his face was beaming. He had tranquillity on his face like I’ve never seen. He was looking heavenward when the lever was thrown, and the last thing I saw before he plunged down was a smile!”

  “Praise the Lord!” Blake said.

  By now, the last of the inmates had moved past the cell. Tubac glanced toward the line of men who filed
out the door, then turned back and said, “Barrett, I have to go off duty after I take you to the mess hall. But I want you to show me how to be saved as soon as I can spend some time with you. Will you do that?”

  “I sure will! You work it out. It will be my pleasure!”

  “When I come back for my shift tonight, I’ll find a reason to come and see you.”

  In less than two weeks after putting the Pacific Bank and Trust Company on the open market, Haman Warner had sold it.

  His employees were quite surprised, but relieved, for Haman had not been his old jovial self since inheriting the bank. He had been difficult to please and was making their lives miserable. They were glad to see the bank sold to someone else.

  Haman’s only regret as he left the bank without telling anyone where he was going was not being able to clean out Blake Barrett’s personal account. It was a substantial amount, but he wouldn’t risk prison to steal it.

  On the day before leaving for Cheyenne City, Haman packed what few belongings he was going to take with him. Among them was an old trunk that held some mementos from his childhood. From an attaché case, Haman took out clippings from the Sacramento Gazette, which told the whole story of Blake Barrett’s arrest, conviction, and incarceration at Ukiah State Prison for a fifteen-year sentence.

  Chuckling to himself, Haman stuffed the clippings into a large envelope and placed it in the trunk. “Can’t let my most clever deed be forgotten,” he said aloud. He dropped the worn old lid of the trunk, placed a heavy-duty padlock in the latch to secure it, and pocketed the key.

  Before leaving for Wyoming, Haman made a quick trip to Stockton and sent a wire to Linda, telling her it would only be a few days until he sent the wire for her to come west.

  After two days of travel, Haman arrived in Cheyenne City to find a cold wind whipping across the Wyoming plains and some six inches of snow on the ground.

  He closed the deal on the Great Plains Bank the next day and bought a house four days later. Having the house secured, he wired Linda and told her to come as soon as possible. He told her he was happy with his new job at the Great Plains Bank, and that he had purchased them a house. He was sure she would love it. The house came furnished but if she wanted to replace any of the furniture, or wanted any redecorating done, he would take care of it before they married.