"Thank you, Tess," Susan murmured, accepting the proffered cup of tea with a mustered smile.
Tess pulled up a chair to the kitchen table and sat down next to Susan with her own cup of tea. "How are you feeling today?"
"I'm wishing I still had the tranquilizers," she confessed quietly. "It's so much easier to deal with things through a comfortable haze." Shame stained her cheeks, and a smile tugged at her mouth–a self-conscious stretching of her lips that both acknowledged her faults and asked the person upon whom it was bestowed for forbearance. But the smile quickly faded as Susan lowered her eyes from Tess' perceptive gaze.
"Go on, baby," Tess encouraged, sensing there was more that Susan wanted to say.
"It was a . . . good thing," she began slowly, staring into her teacup, "that William threw them away." She looked back up at Tess. "You don't know how often I've wondered how many I would have to take to ensure that I would never wake up again," she finished candidly. Her eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Tess," she cried softly, "I feel like someone has ripped my heart from my chest and trampled it into the ground."
Wordlessly, Tess drew Susan into an embrace and held her while she wept. Susan seemed to draw strength once again from the angel's arms, and pulled away, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. It was a good sign, Tess noted. Each successive bout of tears was a little shorter than the previous one, a sign that Susan was beginning to cope with the devastating tragedy.
Susan tossed the damp tissue on the table and sighed. "I'm trying to deal with this–God help me, I'm trying–but sometimes–"
Tess reached out and patted her hand. "You're doing just fine!"
"I was so angry last night," she confessed. "Angry at God, angry at that man, angry at the world in general. And I took it all out on William when we were getting ready for bed." She closed her eyes at the memories of the previous night. "I blamed him for Elsie's death–for letting her go out that evening."
"Anger is a very natural part of the grieving process," Tess commented.
Susan sighed. "Well, we've had our share of that stage and then some," she said ruefully. "We said things to each other last night that would curl your ears. But," she continued, "we stayed up until five o'clock this morning working it out, and I think that's a very good sign."
"It is, baby," Tess confirmed.
"We also don't watch television anymore for fear of seeing that man," she told Tess. "We just get our information from the prosecutors involved in the case."
The temptation was overwhelming, and Tess couldn't resist. "Do you know anything about . . . that man?" she asked.
Susan shook her head. "Just that he pleaded 'not guilty,' and has been transferred to the county facilities until the trial begins."
It was Tess' turn to feel her face grow warm. She knew that the Father was taking care of Andrew, and that she and Monica were not to interfere. Her question sprang from her own lack of faith, and she sent up a silent prayer for forgiveness and strength before turning her attention back to her assignment.
"We're doing our best to resume a normal life," Susan continued, "but it's not easy." She swallowed some tea and set the cup back on the saucer. "William has immersed himself in his ministry, and Kevin in his schoolwork. I do the same with my part-time job as music teacher down at the school, but it seems like the harder we try to get back to normal, the worse we feel."
"Well," Tess began, "I have observed something with your family, Susan. You have all grieved the loss of Elsie in your own ways, but none of you have truly grieved her loss together as a family. Until you do this, you won't be able to move forward together into the future."
Susan pondered this for a long moment, and then nodded slowly. "I think you're right," she said. "I think that is exactly what we need to do."
Tess beamed proudly at her. "You're going to be just fine, baby!"
Susan smiled back. "You know, Kevin had just been accepted to Notre Dame on a football scholarship. He hasn't made a big deal of it–Elsie was his biggest fan, and I know he is still hurting so much, but I want to make this special for him. Would you like to help me plan a special dinner for him?"
"I'd love to!" Tess replied.
"Oh, I'm so glad," Susan responded. "I like having you around, Tess. You've been such a help! I don't know what I would have done without you."
"That's what I'm here for," Tess said, "and I'll stay for as long as you need me." Even though the Marshalls were beginning to get their lives back on track, there was still a lot of work for her to do, and she had the feeling that she was especially going to be needed when the trial began.
*****************************
"All right, ladies! Time for showers!" the prison guard, Doug Faber, called to the prisoners."
The automatic doors all swung open, and three armed guards began to walk down the aisle, making sure that all the prisoners had their soap and towels and headed for the showers.
Farber looked into Andrew's cell, and saw him sitting on the end of his bunk, eyes lowered, not moving. "Didn't you hear me, gutter slime? I said it's time to hit the showers! Now strip down, wrap that towel around yourself, pick up your soap, and get moving! Are you trying for a shot at The Hole on your first night here?" Farber demanded, referring to the solitary confinement rooms.
"I had a shower just a few hours ago," Andrew replied softly, looking sideways at the guard.
"That was one thing, this is another. The men shower every night. It's the rules, and there ain't no exceptions...or, could it be your time of month? How totally insensitive of me!" Farber held his hands up in mock dismay. "You got a note from your mommy, Blondie?"
Seeing no way out, Andrew stood up and started to undress. He paused, and cast Farber another look.
"What's the matter, Angel-Mae? You shy with old Doug watching?"
Andrew said nothing.
"Well, you'd better get used to it fast, because privacy is something you leave on the outside, buddy, now peel down and get your backside to the shower. I have a feeling that the boys are missing you, and you don't wanna keep them waiting, do you?"
Farber walked with Andrew down to the showers. Again, he was greeted with whistles and exaggerated kissing sounds.
"Well," Farber said. "Now that everyone is present and accounted for, I'll leave you lads to your showers...Oh, and....just in case anyone of you are wondering...it ain't half bad!" He raised his eyebrows suggestively and left the area, taking the other guards with him.
"Here's a free shower right here," one of the inmates said, indicating a pipe with a showerhead on it, right next to his.
All the other men had stopped showering, and were leering at Andrew.
Andrew slowly looked around, swallowing with difficulty. Surely, this humiliation was not part of God's plan! He tried to think what he might have done, during his job, as caseworker or Angel of Death, to incur God's anger and be worthy of this punishment. No! He would not think that way! God HAD a reason...he HAD a reason...for all of this...for everything. How many times had he told this to a desperate and confused mortal as he worked on a case?
"Right over here, sweetie," the inmate persisted, and then, Andrew saw that the other inmates were moving back...all of them looking at a huge man who was entering the shower area. He was close to 6'5" in height, and had to be at least 270 pounds...all muscle. He traveled with no guard. He ignored the others and went right over to the inmate who had beckoned Andrew.
"You're exceeding your boundaries," the new arrival growled at the now quaking inmate.
"I...I'm sorry, Wild Bill," he stammered. "I was just havin' fun with the cherry!"
Wild Bill sneered, "It ain't your JOB to have fun with the cherries, Livingston!" Here he regarded everyone. "Showers are over, ladies. Get lost."
The more than two-dozen inmates grumbled, but did as Wild Bill instructed, filing out of the shower room, leaving Andrew alone with the giant.
With a look of concern, Wild Bill ventured, "You afraid of me, kid? Heck...no need of that! I'm just what you might call the 'Welcome Wagon' here. It's my job to teach all you new guys the ropes and to make sure you understand the rules." He started towards Andrew, who backed up a good five paces, clutching his towel for dear life.
"You're making this situation harder than it has to be, kid. Now, it'll be a lot easier if the two of us can be friends." He again took a step towards Andrew, who was now backing up rapidly, and continued to do so, until he reached a corner, and felt wet tiles at his back. A breath caught in his throat, and his green eyes filled with total fear and dread. "Heavenly Father, no! Please...spare me this!" he rasped, his voice choked with terror, as the huge Wild Bill keep coming towards him.
Shaking his head, Andrew sank slowly to the floor, his knees up in front of his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around his legs at the shins.
It was Guard Farber who returned to the shower area. "Okay, Bill...that's enough excitement for one night. Can't you see that boy is about to pass out?"
Wild Bill regarded Farber with loathing. "Ain't you got somewhere else to be, Farber?" he hissed.
Farber seemed to be thinking, then replied, "Nope. Shower time is officially over for tonight. Now get back to the cellblock! Pronto!"
Bill backed down, finally. He looked at Andrew, still in near-fetal position in the corner, the spray from at least five showerheads pounding him full force.
"You got lucky, girl," he spat. "But, we all know that anticipation makes it all the sweeter! Dream about that tonight!"
As Wild Bill left the shower area, Andrew's head dropped onto his knees, and he couldn't stop the sobs that wracked his body.
Farber felt a pang of pity, and that was something he almost never felt, as a seasoned guard of twenty-three years, who had seen it all, and way too often.
He walked over to Andrew. "Come on, kid," he grumbled softly. "You ain't hurt. Back to the cell."
Back in his cell, Andrew hurriedly re-dressed and curled up on his cot. He was still shaking, from head to toe, and had never been so miserable. Almost frantically, he tried to remember what it felt like to be in the presence of The Father's light and love. But both his mortal condition and his present situation, made this almost impossible.
Curling up all the tighter, Andrew tried to stop the hot tears from pooling in his eyes, but they came...unbidden. Where was Tess? Where was Monica? He wrapped his arms around his shoulders, rocking slowly, trying to comfort himself...a thing he had never before had to do.
"Alright, ladies!" Farber shouted from the end of one aisle. "Ten minutes to light's out!"
"Hey, Farber!" one of the inmates shouted down the aisle, "you gonna leave the cells open tonight...just so's we can go and pay the cherry a visit...you know...in case he's feelin' lost and lonely?"
There were hoots of appreciation from some of the others, but Farber called out, "You invitin' Bill to this shindig?"
No smart answers came back at him, and, a few moments later, the lights went abruptly off.
Andrew lay alone in the dark, fearing to close his eyes. Yes, the cell doors were tightly closed and locked, but he had no idea what might befall him if he were not on guard over himself.
That night he didn't sleep at all.
***********************
The following morning, three guards, that Andrew had not seen before, came to take the prisoners to breakfast in the dining room. The dining room was an enormous open area, with rows of tables, with their benches attached. Each prisoner picked up his tray, and then took a seat at one of the tables. There were areas of tables for each cellblock, and a guard made certain that Andrew went over to the appropriate one.
That was when Wild Bill arose from a table not far from Andrew's, and, bringing his breakfast tray with him, walked over to where Andrew had just seated himself.
"Is this seat taken?" Wild Bill asked with exaggerated politeness.
Andrew froze. He knew that it would do no good to say it was taken. Bill would sit where he wanted, in any event. All he could do was shake his head once, then continue to stare at his congealing scrambled eggs.
Bill glanced at Andrew's as-yet-untouched tray. "Come on now, you've gotta eat. Gotta keep up your strength, ya know," he leered.
Andrew said nothing in reply, and Bill reached over, picked up Andrew's fork, loaded it with egg and conveyed it to his mouth. "Eat a bite for Wild Bill, honey," he coaxed.
"I...I'm not hungry," Andrew forced himself to reply. His usually resonant, smooth voice sounded strangled and tight.
"Well, Wild Bill can take care of that!"Bill said, and turning, he caught hold of Andrew's jaw, pressing hard on his cheeks, with his thumb and forefinger, until Andrew's mouth was forced open, then shoveled in the forkful of egg.
Andrew gagged, and grabbing his napkin, spit the contents into it.
"What's going on here?" one guard demanded, walking over to the table Andrew shared with Wild Bill.
"I...can't eat," Andrew said. "May I go back to my cell?"
"You're Doe, right?" the guard asked him, and Andrew nodded, wiping his mouth and discarding the napkin. "Well, you have a visitor. Usually, we keep this sort of thing until after breakfast, but this is your attorney. Come on...I'll take you into the visitation room."
Bill looked at Andrew, as he got up from the bench. "Anticipation..." he said flatly, in a way that sent chills through Andrew's entire body.