Mountain Top

by Robert Whitlow

  “What does that tell you?”

  Mike stared at the images. There was no question about the similarity between the test results and the guidelines provided by the manufacturer.

  “Yeah, it looks the same. But don’t you think you should go to the doctor?”

  “Of course.” Peg grabbed him again. “But I know I’m pregnant! I can feel it!” “You can’t feel a baby this early.”

  “I know that,” she said, grabbing his hand and placing it over her heart. “It’s a knowing inside here. That’s why I bought the test. I’d been feeling odd and wondering if something was wrong. This afternoon while I was out running with Judge it hit me that I should pick up a pregnancy test at the drugstore.” She held up the slip in triumph. “And it was positive!”

  Peg sat down on the steps and began to laugh. Still in shock, Mike didn’t move. Judge nuzzled Peg’s leg. Peg reached out, took Mike’s hand, and looked up into his face.

  “After all these years of doctors, exams, procedures, and giving up, I can’t tell you how happy this makes me.”

  “A baby,” Mike murmured. “We’re going to have a baby.”

  THEY CELEBRATED AT THE MOUNTAIN VIEW, THE NICEST restaurant in town. Peg picked at her salad. Famished, Mike didn’t leave a crumb of a crouton on his plate.

  “I wonder if I’m going to have any strange food cravings,” Peg said.

  “Right now, nothing would seem strange to me,” Mike replied, looking over his shoulder toward the kitchen area.

  “You ordered the biggest steak on the menu.”

  “But it’s not here yet. Missing lunch and finding out that I’m going to be a father has increased my appetite.”

  “Why didn’t you eat lunch?”

  “I had a glitch in my schedule.”

  “What happened?”

  Mike told her about Muriel Miller’s visit to the church, and his encounter with Sam at the jail.

  “How did it feel being a lawyer again?” Peg asked, leaning forward.

  “It’s not my world anymore.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course,” Mike scoffed. “The law and the prophets don’t mix.”

  Their meal arrived. Mike savored the thick, juicy steak. On the third bite, he thought about Sam Miller and hoped the old man would get out of jail in time to enjoy fried chicken on his wedding anniversary.

  MIKE AND PEG AGREED TO KEEP THEIR NEWS SECRET UNTIL confirmed by the doctor. That night, Peg fell asleep in Mike’s arms. In the morning, she didn’t lie in bed with her face to the wall but fixed coffee while he shaved and showered.

  “Call me as soon as you know anything,” Mike said as he kissed her on the cheek.

  Peg wrapped her arms around him and placed her head against his chest. Mike didn’t know what to think. It had been years since she’d displayed this type of affection before he left for work. He held her for a long time then kissed the top of her head.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “I love you, too.” She lifted her head and gave him a lingering kiss on the lips. “Have a good day. I’ll call you from the doctor’s office.”

  Mike drove to the church in a daze. If pregnancy could awaken this level of passion and tenderness in a woman, it must be the happiest state known to man.

  “GOOD MORNING, DELORES, ” HE SAID, STOPPING AT THE SECRETARY’S desk.

  Delores coughed and cleared her throat. “I took a message off the answering machine from Mrs. Miller, the woman who came to see you yesterday.”

  Delores handed Mike a pink slip of paper. He suspected the lawyer sent to interview Sam Miller hadn’t made it to the jail yet.

  “If Mrs. Miller would be patient and her husband would exercise common sense, everything could be handled in proper order,” Mike replied, crumpling up the slip of paper and dropping it into Delores’s trash can. “But I’ll call the court administrator to make sure everything is on track.”

  He went into his office and called the courthouse.

  “I talked to Greg Freeman and mentioned your concern about the prisoner’s competency,” the court administrator said. “He promised to go by the jail yesterday afternoon.”

  Mike didn’t know Greg Freeman, who had come to town after Mike left for seminary. He looked up the young lawyer’s office number. A male voice answered the phone.

  “Greg Freeman, please,” Mike said. “Tell him Reverend Mike Andrews is calling.”

  “This is Greg.”

  Freeman’s voice sounded more like a member of the church youth group than an attorney.

  “Welcome to Shelton,” Mike replied.

  “Thanks, I grew up in Wilmington, but I’m enjoying the mountains.”

  “Great. Listen, I’m calling about a defendant in a criminal case named Sam Miller. Have you been to the jail—”

  “I’m sorry about that,” Freeman interrupted. “I met with him yesterday without realizing that you’re representing him.”

  Mike sat up straighter in his chair. “I’m not representing him. When we talked at the jail, I made it clear that I wouldn’t get involved.”

  “He claims you’re his lawyer. Based on the financial disclosure sheet, he isn’t going to qualify for an appointed lawyer, and I thought he might want to hire me as a paying client.”

  “I wish he had,” Mike said, looking out a window at the trees along the creek. “He needs help.”

  “No doubt, but there wasn’t any use talking to him. He’s convinced that you’re on the case.”

  “He’s wrong. That’s why someone should be appointed to represent him. He may be delusional, and the fact that he thinks I’m his lawyer proves it. I haven’t been in a courtroom in over six years.”

  “I heard you were pretty good.”

  “Who told you that?” Mike asked in surprise.

  “Your name came up last week when I was having lunch with Judge Coberg. He told me about a case in which you cross-examined a witness who confessed on the witness stand. It sounded like something from a TV show.”

  “Warren Ridley,” Mike answered. “It was a white lightning case. A real throwback.”

  “Yeah, the judge said that’s what convinced him you should be a minister. He claimed anyone who could get this Ridley guy to admit his guilt when another man was about to be convicted ought to be in a pulpit urging people to confess their sins. It was hilarious the way the judge told it.”

  Mike smiled at the memory of the mountain man sputtering and fuming on the witness stand until finally throwing up his hands and acknowledging that he’d secretly built a moonshine still on a neighbor’s property.

  “That story has been overblown, but if I’m so good, I should have been able to convince Sam Miller that I’m not going to be his lawyer.”

  “Maybe you should put it in writing.”

  “Yeah, that’s my next step. Sorry to inconvenience you.”

  “No problem, it’s a pleasure meeting you over the phone. Let me know if I can help.”

  “Thanks, and I’ll suggest to Miller that he consider hiring you.”

  Mike hung up the phone and added Greg Freeman to his list of church prospects. He turned on his computer and quickly typed a letter of nonrep-resentation that included a place for Sam Miller to sign.

  “Back to the jail,” he said to Delores.

  “Why?”

  “I have to set Mr. Miller straight that I won’t be representing him. I don’t think the elders or members of this congregation would want me practicing criminal law on the side.”

  THIS TIME, THE FEMALE DEPUTY ON DUTY DIDN’T OBJECT TO Mike’s request for access to the cell block. Lamar Cochran wasn’t on duty, and an unfamiliar officer brought out Sam Miller. The older man greeted Mike when he entered the hallway. Mike didn’t respond. They went into the same interview room. Mike spoke without sitting down.

  “Mr. Miller, I thought I made it clear that I wouldn’t be representing you. You don’t qualify for an appointed lawyer and need to hire a private attorney. Mr.
Freeman is willing to help, but whether you hire him or someone else, you need to act as soon as possible.”

  Sam looked up at Mike. The old man didn’t seem upset at the news.

  “Have a seat,” Sam said. “I understand.”

  Mike placed the letter he’d typed on the table.

  “This is a letter stating that I’m not your lawyer. Sign it. I have an extra copy for you.”

  Sam picked up the sheet of paper, looked at it for a few seconds then placed it on the table. Mike held out a pen.

  “Do you have any questions?” Mike asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Did she laugh?” Sam asked.

  “Who?” Mike asked in surprise.

  “Your wife.”

  “Why would she laugh?”

  “I told you yesterday that Isaac was on the way.”

  Mike stared at the old man for several seconds.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your baby. Did your wife laugh when she gave you the news that you’re going to be a daddy?”

  “Yes,” Mike answered slowly. “And cried, too.”

  Sam patted his stomach. “That’s understandable. It’s been a long wait. But she’s a new woman. A fresh wind from heaven is going to refresh her soul.”

  Mike sat down in the chair opposite Sam. “How did you know my wife was pregnant? I didn’t know it myself until I got home yesterday afternoon.”

  “I told you Isaac was coming. I figured she’d be laughing since that’s what his name means.”

  Mike’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You believe I’m going to have a son?”

  “Yep. But I have a fifty-fifty chance of guessing right anyway.”

  “How did you know my wife was pregnant?” Mike insisted.

  Sam grinned. “Papa showed me. It’s a sign and a wonder.”

  “Well, it makes me wonder all right, but you didn’t answer my question.”

  “It was part of the dream,” Sam answered patiently. “The one that sent Muriel to the church to fetch you.”

  “What dream?”

  Sam sat back in his chair. “You told me to get right to the point yesterday, so I didn’t mention it. Do you want the whole explanation?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Here’s what happened. In the dream, my truck broke down on the side of the road in front of your church. A lawyer I know came out of the sanctuary to help me. His wife was with him, and she was laughing and pointing at her stomach. It was obvious that she was pregnant, but she put her finger to her lips, so I knew it was a secret. The lawyer started working on my truck and fixed whatever was wrong with it, then I left.” Sam stopped.

  “That’s it?” Mike asked.

  “Yep.”

  “How do you know it was my church?”

  “I don’t get over that way much, but I’ve been by it on the road. Little white building beside a stream that dries up to a trickle in the summer.”

  “Yeah, but we have a bigger sanctuary now.” Mike furrowed his brow. “Who was the lawyer?”

  “Jim Somers.”

  “He’s been dead for years!”

  “Yep.”

  “And his wife is close to eighty.”

  “Yep. That let me know it had been a long wait for you and your wife, like Abraham and Sarah. When the lawyer from the church fixed my truck, it told me that you were the one who was going to help me get out of here and down the road of life.”

  Mike tapped the letter on the table with his right index finger but didn’t look at it.

  “But why was Jim Somers in your dream? Neither he nor his wife ever attended Little Creek Church.”

  “Because I knew him. I used to cut his grass. It’s a way Papa uses to speak to me. He shows me a person I know to tell me about someone I don’t. You’ll learn.”

  Mike thought for a moment. The unusual man’s logic was filled with holes.

  “But we have other lawyers in our church,” Mike said. “Maybe one of them is supposed to represent you. Do you know Jack Smith? He’s a fine lawyer.”

  “No. You’re the one.”

  Mike shook his head. “Mr. Miller, that is an interesting story, and I can’t deny that my wife is pregnant, but your interpretation—”

  “Is often the hardest part, I admit,” Sam said. “And I’ve made mistakes. Papa is never wrong, but when things get in my old brain, they can get tangled up and confused.”

  “Maybe that’s what’s happened this time, or you were working through a psychological problem you have with lawyers.”

  “I don’t have anything against lawyers. We’re all sinners in the hand of the Enemy until the Master sets us free. Papa doesn’t pay attention to labels.”

  Mike digested the unorthodox terminology used by the old man.

  “Okay, but you didn’t see me in your dream, did you?”

  “No, but before I was arrested I knew you were coming in three months, and when I put the two dreams together it all seemed to fit. Where we go from here is around the bend and out of sight, but the first step is for us to get together so you can help me get out of this mess, and I can teach you what I know.”

  “You had another dream?” Mike asked in dismay.

  “Yep. I’ve had thousands of them. Some are dreams, others are visions.”

  Mike placed his pen on the letter. He’d heard enough for one day.

  “Sign this letter. I know you want to spend time with me, but I don’t need to be your attorney for that to happen. Maybe we can talk about your dreams and visions after you make bond and get out of here.”

  “What’s your wife’s name?” Sam asked.

  Mike was irritated. “You don’t know?” he responded with a hint of sarcasm. “Nope.”

  “Margaret, but I call her Peg.”

  “Muriel wants to meet your wife, but I told her to call and check with you first.”

  “Does your wife have dreams, too?”

  “Not like I do.”

  Mike hesitated. He didn’t want to drag Peg into interaction with the Miller family.

  “I’ll see.”

  Sam stood. “Thanks for coming.”

  “What about the letter?” Mike asked, remaining in his chair.

  “You and Peg pray about it and let me know.”

  “And you’re going to stay in jail until I get back to you?”

  “Yep. I don’t want to, but you’re not giving me much of a choice.”

  Mike stiffened and his eyes narrowed. Miller’s attempt to manipulate him through guilt was not going to be successful.

  “Mr. Miller, I have one piece of advice for you. Hire a lawyer.”

  Mike left the room without shaking the old man’s hand.

  Five

  MIKE KNEW WHAT TO DO. THERE WAS NO LEGAL REQUIREMENT that he obtain Sam Miller’s signature on a piece of paper, and based on their second meeting, it would be easier to ignore the situation than try to address it directly.

  When he arrived at the church, Mike saw Peg’s SUV parked in front of the administration wing. Beside it was the same red pickup he’d seen the previous day. His irritation returned. He walked quickly through the administration wing. No one was sitting in the waiting area. Delores tilted her head toward his office.

  “They’re in there,” she whispered.

  “Peg and the Miller woman?” Mike barked.

  “Yes.”

  Mike burst into the room. Peg was sitting on a small love seat with her shoes off and her legs tucked beneath her. Muriel Miller sat beside her.

  “Honey, I think you know Mrs. Miller. She was waiting to see you when I stopped by. Do you remember the painting I did of the woman at the pond?”

  “Uh, yes.”

  “Based on the person you saw in your dream, doesn’t Muriel look just like her? When I saw her, it made me wish I’d brought my pencils so I could do a quick sketch.”

  “Maybe,” Mike grunted. “I thought you were going to the doctor.”


  “I did. Everything is fine. I’m in great shape for a thirty-nine-year-old woman about to have her first baby.”

  Mike frowned. “We weren’t going to say anything to anyone.”

  “Muriel already knew about it. Her husband had a dream about the baby. It’s the most amazing thing—”

  “I know all about the dream,” Mike interrupted. “I’ve been to the jail and heard the whole story.”

  “How is Sam?” Muriel asked anxiously. “His heart isn’t in the best shape.”

  “He’s okay under the circumstances. He didn’t mention any physical problems.”

  “I hope he’s taking his blood pressure medicine.”

  Mike turned one of the chairs in front of his desk so that it faced the love seat. He sat down and leaned forward.

  “Mrs. Miller, I can’t get your husband to listen to reason. I keep telling him that I’m a minister, not a lawyer, but he changes the subject. He insists that I’m going to represent him. I know you want him out of jail, and he should have had a bond reduction hearing a couple of months ago, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  Muriel reached for her purse and pulled out a tissue. “I’m worried something bad is going to happen to him.”

  “My sympathies are with you,” Mike said. “But talking to me about it is a waste of time for both of you.”

  Muriel blew her nose. When she began to speak, the words tumbled out. “Sam can be hard to understand when you first meet him, especially when he’s talking about the things the Lord shows him. Over the years, we’ve been asked to leave more than one church, but he has a heart of gold and wouldn’t hurt anyone or take anything that didn’t belong to him. I know he’s not guilty of any crime. After he got over the shock of the arrest, he started looking for what the Lord wanted to do in the situation. He’s been witnessing to the men in the jail, but he’s convinced one reason this has happened is so he can meet you.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Mike saw Peg bite her lower lip.

  “I don’t have to be his lawyer to talk to him,” Mike said.

  “That’s not the way he sees it.”

  “But I’ve turned him down.”